Why not a Journal?

Why not go back to using a journal? Because I'm strangely bad at keeping paper journals. I don't take care of books that well. I let them go to dust, their pages can yellow for all I care, I don't mind bringing them around the dinner table and I'd just wipe off any food stain there is to continue reading, and I love writing, but not enough to keep it in a book, seeing as I couldn't care a lot for it, despite being quite an avid reader myself.

In fact, this blog contains the biggest collection of writing I've had, even if the frequency of coming here dropped quite a bit over the past few years, because of that perceived notion that I shouldn't be a ranty teenager. Anyways, like I said, I've come back at the right time when attention for Blogger is quite low, and so many writing platforms are out there, be it on Wattpad, Tumblr, Medium, I think I can lay low and not care.

Part of it is perhaps narcissistic, maybe I still want someone to read this and sought me out. Or maybe it just flows better when I write online, with a preferred font, a preferred background, with my identity somewhat less known now.

I have to. My mind's a mess. I'm thinking of doing so many things but without clarity, it's hindering how I work. It doesn't matter now what I work or where I work. When the core issues are there, I can't work, period. Perhaps I need as much verbal diarrhea as possible, just an outpouring of grief, hate, anger (not to the point of bigotry or extremism, mind. I'm not that uncouth, gosh), but a place where I can be honest to me, why I have been avoiding people, why I have been avoiding feelings, why I can't be bothered to explore. Then I can go back to being normal, being able to meditate, being able to perceive things, being able to express anger, annoyance, without being afraid of people's judgment.

I can't think of anything anymore to say. If I was angry at something or someone, it's not bubbling to the surface. But I do feel a lot of anxiety and pain. Perhaps anger, perhaps dissatisfaction, perhaps helplessness.

There will be another post. Don't worry. Right now, I'm feeling a lot of release just being able to write, express, having an avenue. I do have friends to talk to, I do have to find ways to open up my pain, but for now, it starts here, and then slowly I can bring it up to everywhere else.

Unblock the blockage

I'm back. I'm here. I decided to continue writing here again when nothing goes right for me at this age. I was reminded that I spent a lot of time on this and I have forgotten what I used to do.

Indeed, I have forgotten. This was a place that I wanted to bury forever, with no intention of reviving. A place where I can occasionally come back to remisnice the old days and remember how immature (or advanced yet naive) I was back in the days, to find courage in those writings at times when I feel like everything will break.

I thought I was done being a ranty teenager, somebody who just keeps complaining about nothing and exaggerating about everything.

How wrong I was.

It wasn't until today that someone told me, I should write again, because all those things I suspected about myself, that I thought will go away if I started acting more "adult", those suspicions is actually true

I complained a lot about my mom not being able to fully understand me here, and several years later, in year 2015, she confirmed that indeed, she doesn't try to understand despite being given the opportunity to. I opened my heart for her only for her to insist on doing things her way. There was no compromise...compromise isn't her vocabulary.

But perhaps being an "adult" meant that instead of feeling angry about those insistence, it's actually emphathising with her situation which makes me a better person than her being bitter and holding on.

Blogging (or reduction of blogging) isn't that symbol of growing up...it's just shutting myself off.

I used to have social media to do all the expressing but even I grow to hate that space. So much despise, so much yearning for self-improvement and yet so much sharing of emotions that doesn't feel real.

I miss writing, just for the sake of pouring it out, no philosophising, no judgment, no need to put on a mask and tell everybody everything is just fine. I used to think I can contain them, emotions, but god, they overwhelm. They overwhelm so much, and when a human container overflows with emotions, it just explodes or ceased to function like usual.

I've been blocked from emoting and unable to express my desires because I deemed blogging and writing about feelings childish and I'm afraid of beibg judged. But in the age where no one really reads Blogger anyway, who the fuck will care now?

So four years and one (several?) depressive attacks later, I declare this blog open again. I cannot promise that everything said here from now on will be written with logic. Most of it will be emotion. There's going to be tears and unnecessary hatred.

But I need this. It's called My Wild Thoughts for a reason. It's supposed to run wild on an ignored corner of the interwebs, and it's better than keeping it inside me, only for me to explode. I need this to stay alive.

I've decided to stay alive so I'll do what it takes to make sure that is maintained, even if I have to open up an old blog to document my feelings, get my anger out, yell, scream, write poetry, make stupid comments about stupid things, rant, banter, analyse...

I'm not linking it to other social media platforms anyway. If you found my blog active again...congrats, you're my reader again.

Busy

Why do I make myself this busy? Am I afraid of searching for the abstract anymore?

It's funny that I ask this, because part of me being busy is about searching for these abstract unknowns. Like chasing philosophy, democracy and youth entitlement.

Whatever happened to chasing for my personal enjoyment? Love, lust, hatred, arts? They seemed so miniscule compared to the plans I'm chasing on right now.

I've been given an opportunity to be even busier than now. Still thinking whether should I accept it. After all, I thought it was my friend's idea, which turns out to be something her boss' idea. Is that even called a "recognition" of my talents? Moreover, will that even be breaching the contract? I think I need to talk it over.

Maybe I should ask those who had a full time job and still become councilors/local politicians. It must be tough on them, add on the marriage in their hands and wow, I can't imagine the burden.

I can't help but say I may have to say goodbye to pursuing personal happiness. Everything I'm doing is now group based. The only thing that's enriching and individualistic is my mind. I've never felt so alive, engaging in debates, getting to know people, listening to their views, counter them, listen again. One day, may I get to listen to the views who are really at the other end of the spectrum.

I saw the transformation of my Facebook page. A lot more political, a lot less personal. Thankfully I didn't portray any side swaying. Still not comfortable to portray myself as a leftist or a rightist. Thankfully I still maintain a centrist, but slowly moving to become a centre-left. I'm not even bothered to know what he's doing anymore. I figured, he probably won't care. And he probably wouldn't.

This slowdown made me think a lot on what I really want to do. What should I sacrifice if any, and can I continue pursuing a direction like this? I think I can, now that I'm a little more liberated and a little less cooped up. I never thought I could multitask but maybe that's because I had the lack of exercise, which caused my brain to shut down rapidly if I try to do more than one thing. Strangely that shut down hasn't occured ever since I started Yoga. But that's only my second month in practising. I'll need to wait somemore to see real change of results.

I guess I'm distressed because I want a boyfriend so badly so that once that pillar is settled, I can move on with my projects knowing he'll support me, especially when family support looks rather flimsy at the moment. But I can't force it. I have to accept the fact that I may marry late or not find a boyfriend ever.

Get past that wall, girl. I know you want to get married early, but this won't happen with you moping around. Might as well make your life more fulfilling instead of sitting around waiting for Prince Charming.

Yea, and I'm still busy.

Fate

It's time for another verbal diarrhea, one that I have to spit out before I could feel normal again?

I've not been tempting fate as of late, but merely letting it flow through my veins, and surprisingly, yielding more positive than negative results than I could ever imagine.

I asked for a job; I got one. I asked for a place to stay; and it bestowed me a place not only strategic, but filled with some of my favourite people to hang out with (still under planning though. Watch this space). I met up with friends, chatted with them, they were so awesome. I've signed up for exercise classes and Yoga because I can't stand my mother's nagging (joking) about my weight and the fact that I got the motivation just from knowing that the ex slimmed down quite a bit.

But what surprised me is that every time I talked to somebody about the positive things that happened to me, or the coincidental things that just happened at the right their reply is always this

"This is fate, isn't it?"

To be honest, I'm a little afraid of leaving all this positive things to happen because I've always think I got it, I've got the opportunity, and then things fucked up and I end up losing hope. Now, I have all this good things happening to me at once, will I be too complacent and just keep hoping for good things to come and stop anticipating for the negative and bad occurences?

Another thing was, am I tempting fate to be angry at something really mediocre and stupid? Something as dumb as being a little slighted when he puts his privacy even stricter that I can't read his daily entries anymore even though he no longer wants to be my Facebook friend? Sigh.

I really have no idea what is it I want with this man. I'm positive that I no longer harbour any sort of feelings for him, yet, I'm curious to know how he's doing, whether is everything alright, and who'll get the second partner first (lol). It's this kind of anal competition that I secretly have with myself, because if I say that out loud, people will definitely say that I miss him and that I can't let go of him.

Lets face this seriously. I've been trying to avoid talking about it for months now and I think I'm ready to admit it even though it's a little late now. Maybe, during all this subconscious and persistent chase to know about his current situation is a sign of me missing the man. Fact: We have been together for almost three years, having our lifestyles (at least my lifestyle) adjusted towards each other. It's a little hard to adjust it back to the way it was. I was given exposure of different tastes and different lifestyles; I can't turn back to who I was when I was 18. I spent almost the entire university life just having him around. It's not that easy to just flip the switch and say "hey! back to my single life of 18" because I'm no longer 18.

I've been avoiding and running away from people contacts and I know it very well. Even though I'm still meeting new people everyday, they are not allowed into my inner self. They are not exactly asked to be part of my supposedly fun activities. For example, lately, any movie I want to watch, I watch alone, occasionally with a friend, but mostly alone. Why do I do that? Because I picked up the habit of watching movies with the ex and now I can't stop myself. I'll watch whatever's good on the cinemas and just feel content watching it on my own. It's so addictive I just do it naturally.

Until a friend I met while walking around alone waiting for the next showing asked me why I'd do such a thing.

I was stunned and I've forgotten. But somehow I knew and what the friend said struck me. I was trying to avoid him. Avoid remembering what was it like having a companion next to you just sharing the same enthusiasm you have for movies. Heck, he was just oozing of enthusiasm whenever the movies are around unlike me. I caught the movie bug soon after. Now? I just cannot imagine my life without them. And to combat that, I use loneliness to stop myself from remembering what was it like to be held in the cold of the cinema room and able to discuss storylines in whispers. My first kiss was also stolen from me in the cinema by him.

Now that it's been eight months since the break up and it took me this long to admit that nobody is going to be forgotten. I have to learn to accept the fact that he'll always be on my mind, and that I have to be honest with my future partner that there is no way a three year relationship can vanish in front of his eyes as he sees fit, not like how I try to call myself the first girlfriend even though technically the ex had two really weirded out relationships before. All I pray for is a better, more compatible person standing right beside me and telling me what the previous relationship did was help me grow and not make me bitter or resentful about anything at all.

Indeed, if it wasn't for the ex, will I ever step out to make drastic changes to my life as I see it now? And that somehow, my vision grew to become more positive but maintain its realist views on the world and societies? I'm at the in-betweens now on dating. Maybe I'm ready for it and maybe I won't. It's too hard to tell until I actually met someone to go out with. And just now, just that moment as I sat with my friends, ogling at the sweaty boys come and go from the squash court, I felt like I need to grab one of them just to have a small chat and see the sparks fly.

But again, that, I gotta leave to fate. All my boy toying imaginations, from an Eurasian that comes from Hong Kong, to imagining myself dating a pop star secretly, to hoping for a French-Japanese mix who still have his mother's blue eyes will come over and swept my feet away. Let me just melt in my own imagination la.

But there's always a special space for old dog and his new tricks. Maybe both of us will change for the better. Maybe when we can look at each other in the eye and talk and reconnect the dots. I won't have high hopes for that though. There's nothing to suggest that I will walk that path again.

Again, I'm leaving everything to fate. Since everything that's coming together, it's all fate, isn't it?

Draggy June

June turn out to be a long long long LONG affair.

While I got May to keep my head in the clouds by all the travelling, June turned out to be a pleasant exchange actually. For one, I've been kept busy by my friends who keep wanting to meet me again and again, that while I reflect on this I'm like "whoa, slow down there. I don't know I'm THAT in demand!"

First off, I went for an awesome waterfall at Kanching. Beautiful, cold (whoo, I just felt the slight jolt of cold senses as I remember what it felt stepping into the water), serene, green, and best of all friendly, as there were many who passed by the waterfalls greeted us with smiles. It was heartwarming, especially during a time when I was at my most confused and sad moments.

After that, I finally steel my resolve to apply for a job. It didn't take long, about half an hour after I applied for it they begin calling my phone asking me if I could go for an interview. I'm amazed at their speed and efficiency, even more so after I attended their interview. That was the most casual (in terms of interviewing process + clothing) interview I've ever had in my life. The marketing head interviewed me in T-shirt, jeans and slippers. I have trouble keeping a serious face but I guess I passed. Because I'm not only considered, I'm literally hired to become their staff. Ha! Oh, and the HR lady was very very friendly as well. Compared to my experience dealing with another HR I felt like I was thrusted into another world. Then again, I can't let my guard down and take everything for granted. Better work my way up.

As if this can't become any sweeter, well, lets just say I've received some reciprocation at my part. We both discussed and we both agree that whatever happened in that unfortunate event, it's time to put that behind us and move on. It's not like I want to avoid it. I don't. My conscience is very clear (and still is!), but I can't help it if others see it in a wrong way. Alright to be fair, it is wrong, but I never put myself in a dirtier position than it already is. Right, move on.

This must be the month where I saw many friends come and go and come and go. I've decided that tomorrow, last day of June, I'm not going to see anybody and just concentrate on being me instead. From exhilaration and excitement to work I felt like just starting the job already because that's how much June drags for me. It's just strange. I feel like the month is dragging about and yet I'm so busy I can't stop moving.

I've also embrace (kind of) a new faith, without compromising my current one. Would you believe it if I say this new faith actually have relevancy to today's society so I don't feel like I'm reading some outdated texts? But I'm threading it with care, because I don't feel like fully embracing this new faith without coming up with my own theology or principles on dealing with it. I'm not fond of making everything it taught a compulsory follow, that's just as restrictive as any religious school. Although this new faith proclaims that anything I do, it's between me and God. I know and I don't call myself a saint in front of God. I'm merely but human who wills herself to taste certain forbidden fruit (not extreme like some other crazy bastards) that will bring no one else shame but herself. So everything's cool between me and God at the moment.

Also, my other prayer's been answered. The prospect of moving out seemed closer and closer to me already. It feels awesome and weird at the same time. Awesome because I can't believe I could achieve my target this year. Weird because I have yet to discuss this thoroughly with my mother. I'm doing all this searching behind her back and I wonder how best to talk it out to her. Although seeing that most of my elder cousins have moved out of their houses without moving out of state, and I do have some friends behind anxiously hoping to move to a better environment and we can share one unit together, and it so happens my friend DID find me somewhere else to stay that is of better environment, I think things are coming into place and it'll be terrific when it happens. Maybe this is what I need. Some peace and quiet away from the family. Plus it doesn't hurt to tell her the place I'm looking at has a swimming pool and gym...

June may be a lil draggy but it's very lovely when all this positive things come into place. It feels like Summer is working out for me after all, and I can look forward for better days to come instead of constantly hoping for a hopeless future here. Maybe I don't like my family at the moment and rather have fully equipped privacy in my quarters instead. Maybe I just have had enough. I hope I'm wrong though. I don't want to hate my family or anything, but lets just say it isn't too warm-hearted in a way.

See you guys in July. Thank you June for being such a lovely month.

Dry Prune

I'm bored outta my wits and it's not fucking funny at all.

Maybe I shouldn't have agreed to doing that project. But I got so much free time, might as well do something right?

Oh well, who knows, maybe community gatherings will grow into me and I'll like it a lot. As long as things remain friendly and unpushy...

Happy Father's Day to everyone else anyways! If I got a dad now I probably will be out looking for dinner restaurants with him! Oh well! This is life!

Bye!

The Vodka Regrets

So I screwed up.

So I want to explain what I was doing. But I can't be hear out. It's equally fatal apparently whether or not you have the malicious intent to ruin kinships.

People forget that you can't present the same truth equally to different people. You can, but let them judge you differently, or you don't, and let them see you differently. Some people don't need the whole truth because they're not related to it, yet you want to tell because you feel the need to rant, but some people deserve to hear the whole truth.

I made the mistake of even voicing out in the very first place, thus ruining whatever existential relationship I have had with the ex. From now on, it's a total clean cut from him and the close friends he had made. I haven't had the time to sift through the pros and cons of this, but it seems that if possible, my life has nothing to do with him and so is his life for mine. No more ex gossips, no more in between circle gossips, no more "so have you heard from our mutual friend the whale and the beaver?".

I'm still wondering what my other friend who was also in the mutual circle will do if she knew I took the stupid step. Will she side with them for justice, even though she wasn't familiar with what's going on nor is she that friendly with them but she'll do it anyway? Or will she keep it neutral, and know it is an eye for an eye, and certainly the friendship we made doesn't equal the punishment that I should have since it is none of her business? I ponder and wonder.

I will not provide a thousand apologies when I'm not even allowed to provide my explanation. My motto has always been, if I have to be wronged, go ahead and wrong me as much as you want. Cut me out of your life if you will. I may be in a state of sadness and desperation for losing a friend now but it didn't mean I will be stuck in this limbo forever. Will I be accused as a fraud or a bitch in the future? Sure, probably. But the same stands for them because they misunderstood my actions and does not give me the proper chance to make my stand or understand me.

So many others, have made even dire mistakes than I ever do and I can still find the heart to forgive them even though it took a really long time sometimes, but I hear them out before I even made that decision. It takes two to tango in this case. If they couldn't find any capacity in their heart then I have nothing to say. I did nothing so wrong that it'll scar my life forever. It's a regret for sure. But I've mentioned a few hundred times before that I wasn't sure if I'm supposed to be angry at the incident and I wanted advice and I wanted to know what was going on. Yet I was prosecuted for being an accuser because I could not present the whole truth unless it's spoken in private.

What can I do anyways? Just get sad for a few weeks and then move on after that. I'm desperate to leave this shithole anyway, what's with a few more cuts to make it an even better decision to get out of here? As for my friend who's closer to me while maintaining as the mutual friend to the rest? Well, it's up to her to decide. Frankly I think it's stupid to take such extreme measures and make her take sides when it really comes to the ultimate showdown. But if she has to do that, then I relinquish this idiotically "precious" position of "friend" if it lessens her headache.

I can't help but wonder if this is a form of revenge that seems to run on karmic proportions. On one hand, I had this bitch straining my previous relationship (no, she was not the deciding factor for me to leave it). On the other, I made a careless, reckless mistake onto someone else, only to be judged, prosecuted, persecuted, sent to expulsion before I had the chance to explain myself, saying that this is a good excuse to finally finally gotten the clean cut.

I'll be lying right now if I say I don't care what my image will be like. Of course I do, and plenty of hands will be there to twist it and make it worst if it ever can. Besides that, I regretted pouring my heart out again, that's why this time it hurts particularly bad. Otherwise, it should have been daisies even if it's not a bed of roses. I should have kept some things in the secret closet and I acted foolishly by blurting it out. Maybe some thing should not have been shared. But I can't do anything now, it's been like this, there's no time machine to reverse that decision.

But the biggest regret, is that I have to wonder why I get the same punishment like anyone else who made bigger mistakes than I have. And I have to sit back and reflect like a kid who have to stay on top of the table for getting caught once while the serial offenders who are experts just stayed quiet while they absorbed all the embarassment I let out.

Whatever happens, the month of May is gone. Perhaps the month of May is the month where I make dire mistakes and loose a few more preciousness in life. Otherwise I'll never steel up and get going. Never. I've also made the mistake thinking that I could've stayed friends with mutual friends of my ex no matter how close they are with the ex as long as they hear me out, but it came to a point where they will not and insist I was wrong. I also appreciate the fact that they have defended me in various situations but I think now they can openly label and call me a bitch, slut, whatever context in front of him for my wrongdoing even if my intentions were never sexual. Sigh.

What will the month of June be like? I don't know. I hate making predictions now that my life has been thrown into disarray yet again. Will it be the month that I can be forgiven? Will it be the month of discovering a new career path? Will it be the month where I move out? So many questions but nothing I can do to ease the pain of the continuous questions in my head.

Lastly, this will be a very long shot because this blog is nearly hidden in piles now and I doubt it'll be read by them, ever. But I'm very sorry. I'm not sorry for what I did because I'm standing my ground to say: That was NEVER meant to destroy your relationship or cast doubts in our friendship and I was under the influence of alcohol. But I'm sorry for all the hurt that you must have gone through, or listening to all the "accusations" I've been telling people apparently (even though I specify that I'm NOT SURE myself), and possibly almost ruining other people's friendship with yours. I'm just glad to get out of there, thus stopping anymore related discussion from continuing, because I don't linger on and on like some other bitch we both know. Was it shame? Yes, possibly, shame's a very sneaky feeling that you can only reveal to a certain number of people while worrying that everything will be heard by the wrong people after that.

To myself, this will probably be a really good lesson never to allow me near anything with the name vodka. No more. I did the stupidest things under the influence of that wretched thing, twice. I'm sticking to gulping beers until I find another alcohol expert, politely reminding them to keep me away from vodka before I vomit, had bleedy throats, and blood-drained faces on them. I still get nightmares remembering my own face.

With this confession of regret, I can now poke fun at myself and slowly close up the wounds. It takes time to heal of course. Hopefully the next post, will be of something fun.

I'm Not Angry

I should be angry when things happen to me, but I'm not.

At times when I shouldn't be angry, I am.

This has been happening for the past month or so after my work-home balance is tipped off, well, not by much, since I was crazily working when I was with that company. Urgh.

One friend said nasty things during a Facebook chat which I got an apology from after telling him properly about what I felt, then he abandons me in Langkawi due to unresolved issues that I don't think I can help with. I was angry, but not angry enough to confront him nor demand an apology. Worst, I relay it to a friend about that incident, and she thinks it's pretty laughable how a girl who grew up in an urban environment could be so indecisive when it comes to asking for a friend's company even if he was in pain or whatever. And again, I felt this momentary surge of anger when I heard that statement that was quickly deflated, I suspect, with the beer I'm drinking and the nachos I'm eating.

I'm just not angry enough. And I know I'm very destructive when I'm angry. So, with many years of practise and patience, somehow I'll just let it slide, only to just mildly poke at them again to get a very mild apology in return.

Maybe she was right, if I was angry maybe I should've showed it to him and as a city girl, perhaps I should have declared or demand for company. The only problem is I don't think I know him enough to make such demands, and honestly, I already got it covered, just sad that this happened, and I don't even get to say goodbye to him properly.

That's not to say I have none of these emotions. I do. I bottle them up till it explodes, or when something that really mattered to me triggered and I blow up, crying or yelling at people. Lately though, these bottled emotions seemed to have a leakage, it'll leak slowly that I just don't do the explosive emotive expression anymore. What for? Who am I showing it to? And really, do we need another angry individual around when every idiot who wants to show theirs have already did their part in annoying the world already?

The bottomline is, just because I don't look angry or that I don't make a big action out there that will hurt or excite people it doesn't mean I'm someone without emotions. The easiest way is just mute and let things pass.

But perhaps it's time I do a little change. Maybe I should take charge about something. But what is it? I don't know yet.

Amazement

I'm to be unemployed in a week.

I thought I was going to feel very sad and discouraged by the fact that I will not be in the job market very very soon, until today.

Quite a few people knew I was quitting already. Bla bla bla, and this person (not the employer), we just have some empty chats, until he told me there will be a new writer filling my place after I was gone.

My first thought was sadness because I was to be replaced. Never thought he found anyone so soon. Heck, who would be in my position to be tortured anyway?

And then I realised something: Someone else is being the sucker. I wonder how long he or she will last.

I have to say lasting 9 months in a job with very little pay, no sense of job security, and an increasingly annoying hypocrite as the employer is a serious achievement. My friends were right, it was like a part time job. I just come and go from home.

I used to go to the office until I found out it's pretty hopeless being there. The hypocrite just goes in for the first few months for image's sake and then left me to fend for myself. I don't know about others but I do believe as an editor, people have to work TOGETHER.

A couple of unhappy events later and I finally blasted him for his hypocrisy when dealing with personal events and my stuff. I still have yet to hear an apology from him but not that it mattered. I've also yet to talk about the things he did to me in public other than those that are obvious. After all, he's the immature and childish one to post ugly things on social media and make people comment on them rather than confronting the person itself. Rather than trying to understand the person this hypocrite rather come up with his own conclusions because it's "faster that way".

I'm amazed actually. On one hand the hypocrite taught me a lot of things early on when I was still naive and new, but on the other hand decides to fuck things up by being mean, rude and such a hypocrite for no reason at all. It's up to the point where he tackles issues with rudeness and sacarsm, clearly portraying himself as a biased person even in publications.

I understand that one should be biased, but not to the point of using your position to continue propagate the bias. You want to be biased? Be a columnist, don't abuse your position. Urgh.

Bottomline, I'm not sad about leaving. Good riddance. Maybe I can get out of where I'm staying soon enough with this miserable burden coming to an end =)

Stand By Me

I'm in one of those empty moments again, that I need to seriously blog it out before I can resume work.

I know, at 4am, what sort of work can I complete eh? Unfortunately, I've been stuck, stuck with my own emotions that I think I need to clear it, before I resume doing anything.

Curiousity got the better of me today. I went to look at Wil Wheaton (yes, THAT Wil Wheaton. Star Trek, The Big Bang Theory, yada yada) and his journal. Something about thanking his mates on a tour he went to. Curiousity got the better of me, and I began scrolling back to his previous entries. I liked his writings, it was personal and not too intelligently demeaning towards people. He writes just like you and me, and doesn't present anything too judgmental.

He wrote about appearing on this 25th anniversary of Stand By Me as it was being prepared for a blu-ray release. He talked about, finally reuniting with his cast and crew. And how for the first time, he felt true great grief and loss, as he spoke about River Phoenix.

As soon as I finish reading that article, my heart shattered. It was like having this instant emptiness engulfing me. I frantically shared the link on my Tumblr and Facebook, hoping to trigger a response from someone, anyone, who felt the nostalgia. And then, I tried to remember what Stand By Me, the film, looked like. I've definitely watched the film before. I cannot forget that leech scene and the ending song, which to this day, remains one of my favourite, and the reason why I hated Sean Kingston the day he released his first single ripping that bloody song off.

And I saw how Wil talked about River, and I could feel the honesty in that man, as he tries to describe his friendship, even though the feelings were suppressed for close to 18 years (River died at 1993). I truly felt the loss of River Phoenix. Even now, I could almost picture him doing movies from the range of Johnny Depp or Robert Downey Jr, people who were once lost but are capable to find themselves by emerging victorious again in this age. Not to mention that he was born with the good looks, just like RDJ. I could almost see them starring in a really smart, witty, heartwarming film already. Sigh. Sorry, I digressed.

But I guess the biggest loss, and why did I felt this really big heavyweight on my chest, is because I think I missed my dad again. If I remember correctly, he introduced Stand By Me to little me. I definitely remember him trying to teach me how to sing that song. He loved that song a lot, so did my mother I guessed. But my father has always been the kind of person who introduces me new things without trying to corrupt my mind, so to speak.

He introduced me to some lovely music from the 80s and the 90s, which made me a lover for older songs even though that decade has passed. Far too long I kept that suppressed due to unspoken reasons. I think it's just natural for a person to just suppress everything, because life just have to move on. Time does not wait for those who cried too much on their loss.

But, lately, I've unlocking memories again. I've started listening to songs from the 80s and 90s, watching the Grammys performances again, and sometimes I felt a sharp pain at the corner of my head as if I lost my memories and I just regained them. My friend reckoned I merely suppressed it so deep down, that the sudden yank of the memories will be painful to anyone.

No sudden death is easy to take in, even if it has passed for 10 years. This is the 10th year since my dad died suddenly due to a heart attack. Gosh, Time passed so much. I'm no longer 13, I'm no longer responsible for caretaking, and I'll soon embark on my own journey.

I wondered how the Phoenix family were, to have their baby taken away from them and feel the sadness again and again because his death was so tragic. I've seen his picture in the coffin so many times, but today, it was the first time, I truly saw the ugliness of his death, much like my own father's. Sometimes I wished I was never there, I wished I never tried resuscitating him. I wished, I just stood there like a dumbfuck and cry my eyes out, instead I touched his cold body with my hands and I tried again and again to do something, but, it never happened. He was out cold, and having a tinge of blue appearing over his face (as how I remembered it). After that, till today, I have a phobia of touching my loved ones who are dead. Others have no problem telling grandma to rest in peace as they touched her forehead when she passed on; I thought twice before doing it, but I did it anyway. She don't deserve this, since it is my own phobia to counter.

I guess to relate this two stories together seemed far-fetched. But believe me, that one movie brought out a lot in me. I have not been crying, but it definitely distracted me enough to remember what was it like to have a dad before this. Ten years without a father taught me so many life lessons, it's no wonder we, as his children, all turned out different than how my mother intended us to be. None of us, are who we are 10 years ago when that fateful day occured. He was not perfect, he never claimed to be, only that my mother wanted so much from him. But, much as he gave my family plenty of pain and unhappiness while he was alive, he was also the radical one who taught me the most about life, politics and music.

I owe it to him that I have explored to what extent of a chameleon I can be, how to behave in front of different people, and how never to ask help from anyone even if I'm doomed to be alone. I was bullied when I was younger and I always cannot bear being alone that's why I don't like having no friends. After not having him around, being alone became something I'm accustomed to.

I owe this to him. I owe this introduction to the coming of age adventure of four young children to my father, for showing me this beautiful movie and song. I'll never forget the happy days when life felt like it can be simpler. Because it was worth it. I've kept quiet before because friends used to say how naive I was, but I think with this naivety is a living proof that I was there, learning through the process, and just being plain happy. But instead, lately, being happy is becoming a learning process for me because I'm no longer a naturally happy person. If I could go back to the time when I could smile at any time of the day just because I felt like it, I would. And this movie, is part of that memory.

As I hear the song again and again, this time, I could feel my dad around. I know he wasn't there to pick me up from the shadows or guide me out of the mess. He's just looking at me. He knows I could do it without him.

Dad, I owe everything I learnt, to you.

"If the sky we look upon

Should tumble and fall

And the mountains should crumble to the sea

I won't cry, I won't cry, No I won't shed a tear

Just as long as you stand, stand by me"

-Ben E. King, Stand By Me

Grasp

Clench, relax. Grip, relax. Struggle, relax. Stretch, relax. Clinch, relax. Claw, relax. Touch, relax. Wriggle, relax. Crack, relax. Reach, relax. Out of reach. Ventilate. Getting further. Hyperventilate. Unreachable. Claw protuding. Aiming. Relax, failed. Claw aiming, at neck. Marking. Scratch. Tear. Pull. Blood showing. Nerves reacting. Pain. Breathe. Relax. Breathe. Relax. Breathe. Relax. Claw stops. Look down. Bloodsoaked. Last Breath. Lifeless. Invisible hand. Grasps life. Slipped. Heavens sighed.

Banterful rant

I remembered the time I whipped out my Blackberry, only to take a black and white picture of the side of the swimming pool while my media camp friends were enjoying the time of their lives.

I whipped it out again just to have a look, just to post it on my Tumblr, with the quotes "I missed the time before I know my entire life is about to change".

I seriously had no idea that it will give me such an impact in my life, months and months after that media camp happened. A year ago, at this time, I'm rushing my thesis, my final year project. Now, I'm rushing through my articles, which piled up when I were into a complete blur and only occasionally writing my stuff and deciding, sentence by sentence, how it's going to sound like.

The transitions I have were just buzz crazy. First, an infathomable crush on Patrick Stump, then it switched to James Franco, then to John Frusciante (oh I really lust for young John Frusciante!! The time before he succumbed to heroin and emerged again, awesome and musically talented. So youthful, so handsome, so age compatible!!!), and now bouncing off and balancing between Thom Yorke, Florence and the Machine, and Muse. Every musical discovery is a discovery for me. And before I know it, I'm now a sucker for non-mainstream music that you probably CANNOT find in mainstream radio (Hate you, Malaysian radio. Yay for BFM, especially its 33RPM segment. I Love Rock!)

It is also these times that I actually spend so much time alone, in front of the computer, just cruising in the interwebs, searching for songs after songs, and occasionally doing my work, or even catching movies alone. I've been rejecting my friends' invitation to meet up and have some socialising fun. From telling them I was busy (I was, until recently), to finally just saying "Y'know, I'm kinda comfortable being alone at the moment. I'd like this to keep on until my job's over. Lets try meeting up once I've quit my job,"

I know I'm abit like a loner at the moment. Doing everything on my own, hating my mom for her nagging (and negative conversation starters. It's like she can't say something nice for us to respond). I think I'm scaring plenty of people off. And I've become secluded from Facebook and more active on Twitter only because of one person. Well, I don't have to see that person anymore after I'm done with this bullshit. Looking forward to that.

I wonder how different my life would be really. Did I miss the ex? I can't tell. I've stopped listening to songs we used to listen to after I've been bouncing off the more indie music scene (which, by the way, isn't a solo effort >_> I have a lot of prompting from another friend). Do I yearn for a comforting hug or someone who'd be there for me at 5 or 6am in the morning while I do my work? Yes, sometimes.

There's no denying to that. And of course, I did express jealousy to my friends who were able to bounce back to the dating scene so quick after their break up, but I guess bouncing back so fast isn't really my style. Not because I'm not over the relationship, just, I don't know, nothing clicked, nothing clicked between me and the other guy. Although there was this one chance for me to get to know more guys and I blew it by saying I had to have dinner at home. Sigh. But I was, at that time, still a little confused following the death of my grandmother of what my direction is, that I'd rather holed up at this place called "home" than go out to meet new boys who can be my potential partner.

Previously, my grandmother was supposed to be the reason I want to get out of here. And now that she's gone, it was a better reason to get out. Not because I loathe doing house chores around now that my maid's gone (On the contrary, it stopped my mother from talking shit about me not helping around anymore), but, it's that emptiness felt in the house. I'm talking about, a house that used to fill 7 to 8 people because my mother wants her parents to stay with us from the day I was born. And slowly, one by one, from my father, to grandfather, to grandmother, they left us, and now it's just the four of us + one cousin.

Is this a good reason for me to venture out and find my own career direction, not to mention getting a better fulfilment of my life? I'd say, hells yea, finally I can get my private space and all that crap I've been yearning for. Am I scared shitless about taking that first step? Yes, yes, definitely. I don't like the idea of throwing all my money down the drain without even checking how deep that drain is. I'd still like to pick my money up from the drain thank you very much, even if I did decide to throw it in, in the very first place.

Life isn't easy these days. In fact, life is fucking confusing. But I don't have anyone to share it with. Who'd understand? Who is in that same state of confusion? And I don't feel like listening to irrelevant banter about how I can stand up again and face the obstacles, like I've did again and again and again. Lets face it, it ain't the year 2001, when it looked obvious that I suffered more than the rest of people my age because my dad died. It's the year 2011 now. Every single person has their own shit to bear, it's not like my shit's any worse than theirs. I love my friends for trying to free up space so that I'm considered an important element in their lives, but thanks and no thanks. I know how you need to live yours. You don't have to worry about me. Like I said, I was pretty much good being alone. I have music as my company.

In my Tumblr blog, I mentioned on how I might find happiness by attending MGMT's concert. But now I'm not sure if that will happen anymore. Who am I kidding when I tell people I might find potential boyfriends just by being there alone? Who am I kidding really? My music inclination's been the joke of my family because it's "freaking weird", because I've been doing things alone (well I used my money, what the fuck they want?). SIGH!

Of course I've been dreaming about it, on and off, of seeing this boy I really like, preferably a mixed, with earrings and tattoos and a perfect smile. He must like me for me, and we can talk about music, movies, art all day long. He must be able to speak Mandarin and Cantonese because I'd like to speak that language once in awhile. He won't diss my politics, in fact, he's active in current issues and we'd spend all day just debating about policies and debunking each other's misconceptions about something. He'd also be sly in making his appearances, and just giving me surprises day by day, and I'd return the favour by writing different styles of notes telling him how much I yearn being with him. He'll be a humble man who doesn't mind showing off his talents. It'd be good if he has some John Frusciante traits. I'd squeal!!!

That said, dreams are sometimes just pleasant endorphins released to the brain to make me feel really good. I noticed that every time I want something, God just gives it to me either very late, or it was the opposite. And yes, again, true, God, I did not go to the MGMT concert to meet boys. It was to have fun with the music and just hang out and head bang to their psychedelic goodness. Which reminds me: Two Days Left! Yay! Will I get any happy endings? I don't know, will let you know if my John Frusciante + James Franco + Patrick Stump showed up yea?

Am I happy with my self-discovery? Yes, so far so good. At least, I'm happy. Confused as fuck, but happy. Tremendously happy in fact, that I get to go on this journey, and alone this time. That I can finally emerged from hiding under the shadows of somebody else. That I'm now considered an equal individual, and not labelled as "so and so's girlfriend".

I think this is what I'm afraid of. What if, by dating again, he overshadows my taste for music, movies and art? Will I let the future partner do it like what I let my ex did to me? I doubt it. This time I'd stood my ground and say "listen to the fucking radio. There's no 'your song selections' or 'my song selections' when we're in the car". I'd be fucking lucky if I get someone my age who likes rock in this day and age. Seriously.

But then and again, as I listen to young John Frusciante strumming "Under the Bridge", I'm reminded of the innocence of us youths, that we can do anything possible under the roof, that we lived and let live. That the continuous dynamics shifting from one interest to another so fast, poof, another decade gone and we did not realised the changes until much later.

That, usually at this time, when schoolchildren prepare to go to school. I'm still wide awake, finding my life's direction. I'm yearning, yearning for a sign for me to keep on going my path I believed in, even though I can't make out that path just yet. At least the discovery has been fun so far.

Till the next verbal diarrhea kick in, I wish all my well wishers a happy and satisfying life. I know you're worried. Don't worry, I'm well. I just need the alone time, the reflective time, to really skewer my life choices. Eitherway though, my mistakes were beautiful, because if it wasn't for those mistakes, I wouldn't be the person you know.

Off Switch

I wished there was one, to turn off my emotions, my animosities, my doubts, my long standing issue with work.

I have feelings too. And it's been affecting me. From a crazy follower of an actor I switched to listen to all those music I used to love to a point of addiction, developing withdrawal symptoms from it. Like I'm on crack. I guess I'm not kidding when I said before music is my drug.

I just drew a mock picture of a woman in distress. Not much, just a head with hairs, and two hands cupping the face. Surrounding her are the words "Shit", "Hurt", "Pain", "Depression". I just need to vent it out. I've got a headache developing. It's tiring arguing with some idiot who don't know he's the cause of it, and thinking, it's my domestic affairs. FUCK OFF will you, you sickening, narcissistic, thinking that you know it all, arrogant, fictitious BASTARD!

I just can't cope. I mean, it's easy to take a few hours off to not think about it, but you want to permanently shut it off. I know I have to leave.

Sometimes I think I'm a failure, and sometimes I think I'm like this because I don't dare to speak out. Well, now I did, and now I kept wondering what are my repercussions.

I'm glad, that I did, speak out, against that idiot. Whether or not he dismisses my outburst as a one time thing, I don't care. I did it. I'm proud of it.

The toughest thing now is how to express that pent up emotion inside. Crying wasn't helping. I couldn't even cry save for that few tears.

I don't know. I'm pretty sure I don't need help. Maybe I just hate being alone. Maybe I just cannot negotiate. I'm terrible at speaking to people because I always think I'll offend people, and then they cannot accept my views. My past is what traumatised me to unable myself to speak.

I even turned the music volume down now, because I can't cope with the loud noise. It's like a distant echo behind my head, the songs. If there were, stimulants, to bring me to fantasyland right now, it'd be perfect.

Well, time's up. I need to get back down to reality, slowly.

I really wish I have an off switch

Transition

I came back from organising, possibly, one of the last funerals I'll be seeing for the next few years to come. My grandmother finally passed on after a few difficult months.

Personally it is a transition for me. For one, I can finally live my own life. For the past decade, I've been living partially for another person, whether it is for grandfather and grandmother, or to help out with both. Well, I guess it's about time I make my own career work, or make my life work. I no longer crave staying here. I want to venture out even if I might suffer from bruises.

I've also changed, by placing a verbal warning on Facebook to those who lack the need to respect themselves after some major serious case of attention seeking examples, so I won't be too friendly if any of them tried to mess around with me.

I guess that's it. Patrick Stump's "Truant Wave" is distracting me and pushing his message of love. I'm also bedazzled by James Franco's stunning appeal.

Will talk more next time.

Snippets of Virtual Memo

I'd like to tell my future employers: What you see on Facebook sometimes does not reflect my work integrity. If that is an indication of who I am, then I'm sorry to say this, but seriously, either Go Fuck Yourselves, or I will not approve your friend request at all.

My definition of Facebook was a private space for me to do my crazy things, not for you to look at what time I posted THAT shit and then berate me for posting that and not hand up work (might I add, there was no real deadline to my work other than the real deadline in which I posted almost nothing). And to those of you wondering "Oh, you bad bad worker! You must have posted links and all that during your work time," Fuck you guys. I don't post it during work hours. So if I work for 24 hours my Facebook page will have to be void of any material I want to share for 24 hours?

I don't blame you if you want to use your Facebook page as a means of networking, but seriously, most young people do NOT use their Facebook for network purposes. To us, it is a virtual personal page of ourselves, sometimes purely constructed for public view, like how mine turn out to be. If you judge me based on my Facebook, and not on actual work I put out, then seriously, you shouldn't be an employer, you're just another Facebook addict turned psychologist wannabe.

And I approved your stupid friend request partly because I thought you are a little more sincere in trying to be a friend than an employer. I thought and believed you know how to differentiate between private and public discourse. But like most employers who don't know how to do it, they just don't. I admire those who do know when to keep their mouths shut when they see something on Facebook and not immediately judge me.

If this keeps going, I may have to delete you my "friend". You're nothing more than somebody desparate for attention to me, first by the mass tags, and then by all these messages you send to me about work, not to mention your public feuds which is NOT something I want to read at all. Geez get over it, somebody publicises their grouches, big deal, if we have to revenge on everybody we'll have a ball.

(Everybody starting to realised I'm addressing only one employer. While that may be true, I'm hoping this holds true for future employers as well after this.)

Trippy Happy. Fuck Yeah. Fall Hard.

I get happy so easily these days.

Just a picture, music, some cup of brownish goodness whether it's iced chocolate or iced coffee. I smile so easily, it's infectious that people look at me, smile, and instantly smile back.

Damn, I'm like that happy kiddy Chuckles the Clown from Toy Story 3 who's actually mopey and sad inside because I definitely don't look like a trippy happy kid.

Then again, maybe I should just embrace it. It's easy to show someone your happy face, then to explain the sorrows you go through, only to be snubbed at and said "your problem's just the smallest shit I've ever heard in my life,". Okay, some might not put it that way but I'm just saying.

"Time to suck it up and take it like an adult," a friend used to say. No point moping about it to people, lest you want to be remembered as an annoyance amongst a bunch of people who are not familiar with you in the first place.

Nowadays, my stressful moments are easily elevated with reading and looking through the amazing things that people share on Tumblr. Nah, not Facebook, eww, my personal circle sometimes just lack the taste of sharing artsy moments, and sometimes it's purely to avoid my current employer, since his imagination can run wild just based on what I post on Facebook.

I've seen awesome Malaysians who shared the same kind of perverted energy (ehehehehehe) and inspiring articles which truthfully, opened up my mind more than any reading material I've found in Malaysia. Some quirky little things that are shared by my current favourite American musician, Patrick Stump, on his thoughts about fashion, animation, some a capella videos (I love it when you do the "Scream" part of the Michael Jackson a capella!). Just recently I've found Wil Wheaton, whom I don't really remember from Star Trek The Next Generation DESPITE it being one of the more memorable TV series that I've watched and only recently seen him in The Big Bang Theory, his quotes, writings equally leave me grabbing for more of his stuff.

I love it when they say Tumblr is based in New York, because to me, New York is like the city of art that I'd like to go through, not really LA. I guess I prefer metropolitans than glitzy glamourous beachside.

Stupid imaginative things like these made my day at these time and age. My mind always go through "media explosion" every time I go through Tumblr. I love love love all the talented and artsy shit that goes through there.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I gotta admit, I wish I was dating. No, not serious relationship-esque dating. But, dating, just, meeting someone, chat with him, hit off with electric sparks, that kind of shit.

But as Malaysians we, tend to err, view dating as serious business after awhile, and wants to get serious so there will be a demand of "will you be committed with me or not?".

Mine started off like that actually, we don't set any ground rules, except for mine which is no soft toys and flowers yada yada yada, and before I know it four years gone by. I was supposed to celebrate the fourth year this year, but, ah heck, I broke it off because when it's time to be committed, it cannot be.

My choice of men have been faltering between the talented, intelligent to the super talented and super intelligent. Of course, we all do, mine's more focused on people who excel in art, like, theatre, drawings, music, writings, movies. So I'm not just drawn to Patrick Stump (who really, really captured my eye after his hiatus from Fall Out Boy. And no, I was never Pete Wentz' fangirl), James Franco, Brendon Urie, Conor Knighton (yum), maybe a little bit of Mark Zuckerberg but not much since I don't know him well enough. Eye candies, err, pretty much everywhere, but real talented eye candies, tough to find, tough to gain followers, and really really easy to chew on. Mmm.

I can see why some girls are turn on to Julian Assange. The cyberpunk of the Internet. Despite how he looks, he draws in an odd charisma that probably set some girls off. I've read the leaked testimonials and police reports and I feel that the two girls he met were not stupid girls. They are just not. And the fact is, men and women need some sort of sexual relationship just that you just don't stay committed to each other for further prospects like marriage.

So yes, I don't appreciate being in this side of the continent where dating can mean serious business, sometimes I just want to be involved in purely "play with hearts, don't take into heart" kind of dates. Maybe I've yet to find my path to a good prospective target to move, or that I'm too slow in reading some messages guys tend to give out.

And sometimes, just purely letting my brain right lobe do the tricks and I'm falling into a pool of imagination where I wish I was canoodling with the kind of guy I want to meet. It may sound pathetic, but judging from my line of work and the kind of guys I meet and don't meet? I'd say it's pretty plausible to let me go wild in imagination instead of docilely waiting for some dude to pass by.

Fuck yeah.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I wish I wasn't here. In this country.

Not for the reasons everyone's thinking. I don't plan to migrate. I just want to work in another country for the experience.

True, I may get the some kind of experience here. I have been, just by working in a small newspaper. But I hate it. I hate that, everytime there's a conversation, people will talk about their experience overseas, and how they are heartened and humbled by those experiences, that they decide to bring it back to Malaysia.

I'd really loved that, an experience abroad, and with it, the capability of bringing it back to Malaysia. I can't do it from the small turf of my home.

Call me petty and unreasonable, but you try churning out good stuff living in a house ranging from the old to the sick to the noisy to the young who can't seem to use his legs now that both his sisters are driving. And unfortunately I can't even rent a freaking room all by myself with the kind of pay I'm getting. Maybe I aspire to go outstation. I really hate it when I'm in a family structure where I can't talk it out with the elders without getting cynical or sacarstic feedbacks from them. They are not supportive. Sigh, I guess venturing on my own seem like a good choice.

I don't know how I feel it, but recently some people are kind of purposely trying to seek an argument with me by being nasty and snide for no reason at all. What the fuck mate. I'd get it if you have a valid reason, but if you snub me just because you like it I swear, you won't like me by the time I'm done saying all the truthful shit about you.

I've been rising and falling hard. It's like, something is trying to tell me, I really cannot be here. I'm not meant to stay in Subang Jaya, and honestly? I don't want to be here again unless I get to buy my own residential spot in Subang Jaya.

I don't know, maybe I'm tired of staying with my mother or with a bunch of people when I don't get privacy (I've been talking about it too many times). Unlike many Malaysians who are okay with that, I'm just tired. Tired, sick of the everyday drama. And her obligatory "diss the eldest child" movement still stands strong every Chinese New Year. Why do parents do that? Seriously?

And no, don't tell me to talk to her, I have, and it doesn't register in her, so be it. I need to go.

I'm just waiting for the right time to. And until then, I'll still be rising and falling hard in this little career. But it's okay.

Because if you fall, you better fall really hard, remember the pain, remember the frustration, remember how much humiliation you go through just to secure a person for a story. I have, and I'm partially immuned when someone throws me an accusation. I said partially, because I still fight back when someone tries to be nasty when I'm not in the mood to entertain them.

Superficial boredom

I have this monster pile of boredom on my chest that I need to slowly dissolve lest I get stoned to death by its hideousness.

I love my R&Rs. Just simply amazing, but I have no mood to look for excitement. I'm just simply consuming whatever information's on to me, while silently following the updates on Egypt, and patiently waiting for The Daily Show be uploaded on the web.

I think I lost the knack for writing at the moment. I'm just doing plenty of mumble jumble until I got my sense of tracking back. It must be all that late nights and article writing that's gotten me numb.

Two things excite me at the moment. 1) MGMT!!!! and I'm going to see them in Kuala Lumpur, 2) err...just finding awesome songs that are NOT often found in Malaysia grrr. Oh and one extra credit goes to Patrick Stump for delighting my life with his little entries into his blog *hearts*.

I always have this little happy feeling inside everytime I feel that my life was going fine. Like, the kind of "omg omg omg I love me so much!!". Yea, that fall in love with yourself kind of feel and it really perks you up and make you go into what you love to do.

Strangely, I'm not that hyped up over Chinese New Year. I didn't even manage to buy a new clothing. To be fair, I have yet to wear one new clothing that I bought last year and there's no need for unnecessary spending. The fatigue over work and all that kind of gotten me tamer and think less about the what-ifs and resentment over my relatives, unlike the last few years.

And the weather? Oh so gooood, although I might want to add that last year it was a rainy Chinese New Year as well. I sure hope this is a good luck charm. I'm kinda sick of seeing bad luck happening to me over and over, especially with my car. Argh, the repair costs that kept showing up....very very pricey....

Oh and one more would be, probably a change of job, but I still haven't found the courage to get out. Shit. I need to get out, move out, but at the same time I'm scared like a bitch because I'll be doing it alone with no family. Then again, that's what everybody goes through right? Right, let me try and dig out my gut and then lets proceed. Also, can someone recommend me an awesome job?

Alright I have enough of ranting. See you when the next monster pile comes in.

Fickle

I've made a decision not to treat myself so seriously in terms of Internet presence per se. Pretty much a self-discovery for me after a few turns of looking at my Twitter, Facebook, Blog and Tumblr. Bear with me here, I'm going to talk about this self-discovery and the good thing about it. It's narcissistic.

In 2006, the purpose of me having this channel was to "let my views be known". Of course, that was back in the days when socio-political stances are pretty strong and when people actually opened up the blog for a reason.

I treated myself so seriously at that time, shaping myself as a "anonymous" character that cares about the current events of the world. The youth who is not apolitical or apathetic. I've made some pretty good arguments, not strong (I'm never extreme), but reasonable enough to allow people to accept my views. Of course, after that I began to engage in some arguments (over the internet) with other "bloggers" per se, and got cheesed off when they kept harping on the same issue over and over again without looking at us (hey hey, hello, I just put my comment there, maybe if you bothered to read it you get my point???)

I guess as a student I was bored and passionate enough, having all the time in the world to care about what's going on with the universe.......bear with me here, imaginative cue on......that I would be the voice of my own, to sound off the adults, to lay some serious bombs over their pretentious claims, to double up as a media shield and called myself the fighter of media freedom. Not to mention that my views were so huge, friends read my blog, they praised it; if they don't like it, they'll make a comment down there, providing with me arguments. All in a day's work of a blogger.

Now here's the thing.

I started the phase called "growing up", and in that phase I started become concerned with things like, privacy, offence. I used to be very critical of The Star for their many mistakes and intentional bias to the ruling party, so much that I'd posted the links and then laughed at them on Facebook. I happened to have one Facebook friend who was working there and I was always hoping it'll trigger a response and then hopefully they'll start caring about what public views are about their newspaper.

But the fact is, most people will still carry on that kind of policy, and the only way out of it is to get out of the newspaper and work somewhere else. Strange, harsh reality I've learnt that is not something lecturers or classmates bother to tell you unless you seek consultation with them. And I began to wonder if these thoughts are necessary to be put online. What more, when my own Facebook circle started to widen and more people are looking into my profile. It's no longer a friend circle, but one network filled with lecturers, friends, people who add me because they've seen me in work, many.

And slowly, but surely, I withdraw my opinions and thoughts, merely placing all the things that made me, me. Kooky stuff like funny URLs, sharing articles, or just plain talking about my feelings. But no more on what I thought about politics, or the media, or things that really concerned me.

You may say, I've turned fickle-minded in the presence of the Internet. I still talk about it in private, and unfortunately not many people is capable of talking to me in the same way anymore. Since I've no longer have a boyfriend, I guess everything I say falls on deaf ears. Some times I acted like a real bimbo and just talk about what everyone talks about. Movies, music, because who's going to listen to my unnecessary nagging of politics? Hell, I haven't had time to read through all the political analysis to make a good judgement out of a political issue compared to my times as a student.

Here's the reason why I think I turn fickle-minded. Bear in mind, it's just my theory.

1) The existence of old people in the Internet. I always think that is a good reason why I suddenly despised the Internet. It's enough I have the old people nagging about their theories when I'm home, I have to listen to some bunch of old people terrorising the Internet with their incessant behaviour? Yes, I do realised that having more Internet penetration to a wider crowd is a good thing and you give the old people something else to do. Maybe I'm a populist but the sudden new age group crowding the Internet kind of put me off guard. Especially when I see friends who cursed on Facebook, only to get their mother's sounding, inside Facebook! Geez. Luckily I only have relatives with me so far, but even then I've toned down a lot compared to early days of Facebook where I cursed like no business.

2) Because even if you consider your comment as something serious, someone else don't. Too many times I tried to play the "mature" game and came out with a reasonable comment, only to have some mindfuck (doesn't matter male or female) that decides to trash your comment by insulting you just because they think it's funny to see people going angry over them. Sometimes it's the bloggers themselves that are pretty unreasonable. A valid argument's there, they don't want to read it, and then proceed to argue with me again about how they're right. Sigh, I'd rather keep those comments to myself. And again, back to self reflection, I realised throughout the years the "maturity" personality just wouldn't do. People love bimbos and himbos. No point taking myself so seriously, when no one will right?

3) One word. Work. It took out too much of my time that I will not make any comments on current events unless I've read up on all the articles relevant to it because I don't want to make bad judgments.

And one thing, I noticed that when Malaysians go on the internet, they want to relax and catch up on news. Two things will definitely sell: One, Relevant News, Two, the Funnies. So where does political opinion come in?

Err, way back in 2008 when it was relevant. With the new ways of communication, and when everyone wants to have a say, everything's saturated and indeed, no longer fun to read unless he or she is a politician relevant. No, I don't even read celebrities, or fake celebrities, they are the worst with spitting out irrelevant information that I don't care about.

So what does it leave me in the Internet arena? Back to doing what young people do best, fickle-minded people who think of food, getting drunk, in love with music or sex all the time. My work persona was for my boss to see, my friend persona for my friends, my Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr persona for different purposes of my Internet journey. No longer concentrating on just "blogging", I guess it's all a standstill. Until a time when I'm needed to put on my matured self on board again, I'm laying it to rest.

So sorry if you expected something like a commentary of a current issue since I'm now a journalist. I guess it's getting harder to even talk about it while being in the media itself.

Questions from my ignorance

Would it kill you to be a little less nosy?

Would it kill you if you know a little less about your country and more about your self?

Would it really be that serious if you care a little less about other people's efforts and concentrate on supporting your own?

Is it really such a big deal to keep studying when you can't even keep track of your daily life?

Why are you acting like there is necessity to forgo better chances for principles when you have so little money?

Pfft, are you serious? You act like this know-it-all, why don't you stop faking that and just do what you really like without a care of what the world thinks?

You like art, you dance with music like no business, you don't stick to one music genre, and you like skipping from one track to another, so? enjoy it la

Contributions are for the noble. You're not noble. You're this selfish little goon who wants to gain a little bit of name for the things you do. You're not noble at all.

Stop comparing. You're not them.

If you care less about the country, surely the country will still be functioning right?

Can you stop pretending like you have the ultimate tools of the trade when you barely even succeeded?

Can you also stop pretending like you can mingle around when you really hate human interactions and rather hide in that shell of yours?

Also, can you now go to freaking sleep? You don't have to stay up and be part of the world to show how much you've contributed.

*Disclaimer: No, don't answer these questions for me. It's my ignorance talking to me and it's been nagging for some time. Letting it out would probably allow me reflect and reposition how I should think. I've been caring about other people's feelings for too long, that my ignorance is telling me negative things. And yes, I do speak as if I'm talking to my other self. It's important to have these conversations before I turn truly cuckoo. Faking insanity is better than the real one.

Yea I think I should say something about 2011

Bottomline is : God did not give me my last 2 weeks of quietness in 2010. It gave me plenty of hells to deal with. But, fireworks was awesome.

Slowing dealing with them one by one. Nope, no longer on relationships. Something far worse.

Might open up Tumblr. But not losing my Blogspot roots, just that my sporadic random moments of quotes is something I want to express on a mini-blog than on a long Blogspot and not get limited to 140 characters aka Twitter. Plus the idea that no comments is allowed in my post? Totally awesome.

See you in the next round. Sorry, been really busy and not willing to comment on the thing that's worst than my break-up.

Toodles