10 years. Just like that, it came and went. And in retrospect, it feels like vanity, all is vanity under the sun.
Now that I've bled that drop of melancholy out, I thought I'd look back at one achievement and one failure of each year in the past decade. This should be interesting.
2010
The good: Representing Malaysia as part of the school band to compete in the Thailand International Marching Band Competition, attaining the position of runner up.
The bad: Mediocre results from SPM, even failing my Chinese paper.
2011
The good: Got accepted into music college
The bad: Got my butt kicked in first semester, couldn't perform well in playing and performances.
2012
The good: Performed in ICS tribute to Bee Gees, bucked up in college quite a bit.
The bad: Struggling through traditional harmony, with mediocre results at the end.
2013
The good: Performed in FrequenC concert by HELP college. First big concert as main drummer
The bad: Ended first relationship, in not the best terms. Also experienced first royal screw-up of a submission for one of the classes, project marks became null.
2014
The good: Experienced first paid gig at Shangri-la, playing jazz. Also stabilised grades in college.
The bad: Starting to drift apart from secondary school friends, can't make it to many meetups.
2015
The good: Graduate with first class honours, became valedictorian of class.
The bad: Started a relationship in-spitr of the red flags.
2016
The good: Got my first full time job, on top of being involved in many recitals that were memorable.
The bad: Wasn't very prudent with maintaining relationships with friends and family due to new relationship.
2017
The good: Year of self-discovery and personal development, due to work stresses.
The bad: Didn't have courage to speak up against injustice in the office.
2018
The good: Made several important and life changing decisions i.e. USA endeavour and career change.
The bad: Ended a long term relationship, inadvertently hurting some people around me in the process.
2019
The good: Experienced growth in the USA, able to process most of the grief from the break up. Also managed to find gainful employment since returning home
The bad: Unable to finish USA endeavour, had to return home.
Saturday, December 28, 2019
Monday, November 25, 2019
To think of someone.
Maybe it's overdue, or perhaps it's in its expected season. Anyhow, here I am musing about a thought, a dream, a passing illusion.
The wounds are old now, yet the scars ever present. Days go by and I still experience the brief sting of reliving a memory of one once held dear.
And then last night prevailed a different dream.
A new person, a new face, and flutters in the belly all the same.
Infatuated? Perhaps. Charmed? Very.
Unrequited? I fear so.
Maybe this will lead to eventual disappointment, yet I can't help but feel this to be better than the melancholy of yesteryear. Alas, such dark times scarcely have comparisons.
Anyway, I might very well be somewhat enamoured once again, so uncanny yet so familiar...
I wonder if she feels the same.
The wounds are old now, yet the scars ever present. Days go by and I still experience the brief sting of reliving a memory of one once held dear.
And then last night prevailed a different dream.
A new person, a new face, and flutters in the belly all the same.
Infatuated? Perhaps. Charmed? Very.
Unrequited? I fear so.
Maybe this will lead to eventual disappointment, yet I can't help but feel this to be better than the melancholy of yesteryear. Alas, such dark times scarcely have comparisons.
Anyway, I might very well be somewhat enamoured once again, so uncanny yet so familiar...
I wonder if she feels the same.
Monday, November 11, 2019
Cake alone.
Cake alone, just doesn't feel right.
Where're the conversations between the bites?
Cake alone, simply isn't sound.
All those calories are going to town.
Cake alone, really is quite a chore.
You'll come to loathe that which you once adore.
But alas, my appetite does delight;
My impulses take flight.
Forget the solitude, the bore, the melancholy.
Tonight my taste buds shall be jolly.
Cake alone, so what if it's pitiful?
Well jokes on them, the cake's wonderful.
Where're the conversations between the bites?
Cake alone, simply isn't sound.
All those calories are going to town.
Cake alone, really is quite a chore.
You'll come to loathe that which you once adore.
But alas, my appetite does delight;
My impulses take flight.
Forget the solitude, the bore, the melancholy.
Tonight my taste buds shall be jolly.
Cake alone, so what if it's pitiful?
Well jokes on them, the cake's wonderful.
Thursday, September 5, 2019
Amber skies.
Is it melancholy or euphoria?
Honestly, the colour amber exudes ambivalence in such a way that I can never decide if I am hopeful or cynical.
Such was the colour that greeted me, that faithful twilight of my arrival home.
Tanah Air. Earth and water.
A rather poetic way to refer to one's homeland. Mix those two things and you'd get mud.
shades of amber
Alas, what do I make of my return? I know not.
...
Amber skies above me;
What secrets doth belie thee.
Thy colour confounds many,
mine gaze lost as with any.
Oh cast thy taunts aloud,
I shalt yet face thy clout.
For what toll can thee bring?
What torment upon me sting?
To this pain I shalt say none.
In due time, 'twill be all done.
Honestly, the colour amber exudes ambivalence in such a way that I can never decide if I am hopeful or cynical.
Such was the colour that greeted me, that faithful twilight of my arrival home.
Tanah Air. Earth and water.
A rather poetic way to refer to one's homeland. Mix those two things and you'd get mud.
shades of amber
Alas, what do I make of my return? I know not.
...
Amber skies above me;
What secrets doth belie thee.
Thy colour confounds many,
mine gaze lost as with any.
Oh cast thy taunts aloud,
I shalt yet face thy clout.
For what toll can thee bring?
What torment upon me sting?
To this pain I shalt say none.
In due time, 'twill be all done.
Saturday, August 3, 2019
Crossroads.
My US endeavour is coming to a halt.
This is my attempt to articulate the reasons that led to this outcome. Though please do understand that my circumstance is layered and multifaceted.
Three possibilities moving forward.
1. I give up
Chief among the reasons to this situation I am facing is financial limitations. Recent events have led me into a tight spot whereby if I continue, I have a very real possibility of living the remainder of my life in debt.
2. I continue the degree after a 2-year break
The two year gap may give enough time to pass and allow for my financial guarantor(s) to stabilise, and I can resume, albeit with the same anxieties pertaining to the debt I'm building up.
3. I continue into masters after a 2-year break
Given that it'll be just a difference of one additional semester when compared to the degree route, this choice would seem preferable in terms of what I attain at the end, speaking from a more pragmatic standpoint.
Reflection
The obvious question to myself then is why I did not consider the masters route in the first place. The truthful answer is, I was afraid. I did not feel confident in my abilities one year ago. That may have changed after experiencing my first year in the US, in addition to the mounting pressures of my debt-ridden existence. In a sense, it feels like if I were to change now, my first year in the US would amount to little more than a very expensive adjustment period.
Honestly, I feel that I am in too deep to back-out, fearing the social fallout (real or imagined) that might ensue. Yes, I am anxious and self-conscious about what people might think of my cessation of this trajectory in life.
The legwork of networking with various music therapists, both in the US and back at home, the countless people I've talked to about how sure I am in making this change...
Well, truthfully I still want this path.
Yet pragmatically, it's costing an arm and a leg.
Even if I do go the masters route, I cannot say with confidence that I will be able to earn back the money in a reasonable time frame o pay off the debt, especially if I am forced to return to Malaysia. Best case scenario is being able to stay back in the US for work, but the odds are against me in that department.
Where do I go from here? I scarce can answer for now.
This is my attempt to articulate the reasons that led to this outcome. Though please do understand that my circumstance is layered and multifaceted.
Three possibilities moving forward.
1. I give up
Chief among the reasons to this situation I am facing is financial limitations. Recent events have led me into a tight spot whereby if I continue, I have a very real possibility of living the remainder of my life in debt.
2. I continue the degree after a 2-year break
The two year gap may give enough time to pass and allow for my financial guarantor(s) to stabilise, and I can resume, albeit with the same anxieties pertaining to the debt I'm building up.
3. I continue into masters after a 2-year break
Given that it'll be just a difference of one additional semester when compared to the degree route, this choice would seem preferable in terms of what I attain at the end, speaking from a more pragmatic standpoint.
Reflection
The obvious question to myself then is why I did not consider the masters route in the first place. The truthful answer is, I was afraid. I did not feel confident in my abilities one year ago. That may have changed after experiencing my first year in the US, in addition to the mounting pressures of my debt-ridden existence. In a sense, it feels like if I were to change now, my first year in the US would amount to little more than a very expensive adjustment period.
Honestly, I feel that I am in too deep to back-out, fearing the social fallout (real or imagined) that might ensue. Yes, I am anxious and self-conscious about what people might think of my cessation of this trajectory in life.
The legwork of networking with various music therapists, both in the US and back at home, the countless people I've talked to about how sure I am in making this change...
Well, truthfully I still want this path.
Yet pragmatically, it's costing an arm and a leg.
Even if I do go the masters route, I cannot say with confidence that I will be able to earn back the money in a reasonable time frame o pay off the debt, especially if I am forced to return to Malaysia. Best case scenario is being able to stay back in the US for work, but the odds are against me in that department.
Where do I go from here? I scarce can answer for now.
Thursday, June 20, 2019
Insomnia rantings.
I can't sleep.
This shouldn't come as a surprise. I know it's nice, this idea of rest and respite. Yet this is not my first time, my circadian rhythm being misaligned, it's not fine, this plight of mine.
I can't sleep.
What would you have me do? My thoughts are few - 'tis true - but they're the cause of my blues. My mind cannot divine this line between good, bad, maybe both are entwined?
I can't sleep.
It's the prevailing thought of yesteryear, the anguish and tears, the isolation and fear. Misguided or misconstrued, what was done to me was crude, and thus my heart was bruised.
I can't sleep.
Ten months I've spent, through confessions and rants, whether improvised or planned, I had hoped that I've moved; I've processed; I've accepted.
I CAN'T SLEEP.
Alas, nights like these, they make me doubt if I had put enough effort to let go.
Funny, why should there be any effort put in letting go?
I don't know.
Do you?
This shouldn't come as a surprise. I know it's nice, this idea of rest and respite. Yet this is not my first time, my circadian rhythm being misaligned, it's not fine, this plight of mine.
I can't sleep.
What would you have me do? My thoughts are few - 'tis true - but they're the cause of my blues. My mind cannot divine this line between good, bad, maybe both are entwined?
I can't sleep.
It's the prevailing thought of yesteryear, the anguish and tears, the isolation and fear. Misguided or misconstrued, what was done to me was crude, and thus my heart was bruised.
I can't sleep.
Ten months I've spent, through confessions and rants, whether improvised or planned, I had hoped that I've moved; I've processed; I've accepted.
I CAN'T SLEEP.
Alas, nights like these, they make me doubt if I had put enough effort to let go.
Funny, why should there be any effort put in letting go?
I don't know.
Do you?
Thursday, June 6, 2019
Musings before my flight home; Things that have happened.
So I took a fall a little over a month ago while longboarding through Tempe. Pretty random thing to highlight I admit, but it felt significant because of the vulnerability I felt and the exhilaration of feeling pain that I haven't felt in a while. Oxymoronic really, yet it made me feel alive, cliche as it sounds.
But enough of that, I should be writing about my imminent return to Malaysia, possibly the last one in a while, anticipating I will be staying back for the subsequent summers to possibly accelerate my graduation if I plan it out well enough.
The days leading up to this moment have been interesting, to say the least.
For one, I was experiencing a bit of a relapse in my brooding over my previous relationship. Old news really, which made me all the more frustrated at myself, yet it happened. Maybe it's the imminent return to the place where the breakup happened. Whether I like it or not, I guess my mind has associated that episode to the place. Maybe it's the recent social media hints of my ex moving on to someone else. Trivial really, yet I seem to be affected. I guess if there's anything I should take away from this recent experience, it's that I have much work left in processing this grief. But I am hopeful of moving on, that's for sure.
For another, the people I have been meeting the past few days, both new and familiar, have been an immense blessing during this season of my life. Perhaps it is through His good timing that I got to experience the interactions I have been having the past few days,and as it turns out they were precisely what I needed to move through the relapse.
San Jose was kind to me, my cousin's friends played host to the two of us and were immensely generous with their time and resources, and that did quite a bit to take my mind off things. Yet Los Angeles was kinder still, in spite of her rough edges, where I got to meet with two friends I knew from ICOM, of whom I've not chatted with in years. Indeed this reunion was refreshing and meaningful; the conversations about life, love, grief, and hope were what I needed but didn't know I need. And friends that I thought I may have lost through time, turned out to feel like we were never parted to begin with.
I guess ultimately, I just wanted to pen down this strange, yet rather optimistic hope that I have moving forward, as I prepare to return home, what come may. Here's to a brighter future, in spite of my doubts.
But enough of that, I should be writing about my imminent return to Malaysia, possibly the last one in a while, anticipating I will be staying back for the subsequent summers to possibly accelerate my graduation if I plan it out well enough.
The days leading up to this moment have been interesting, to say the least.
For one, I was experiencing a bit of a relapse in my brooding over my previous relationship. Old news really, which made me all the more frustrated at myself, yet it happened. Maybe it's the imminent return to the place where the breakup happened. Whether I like it or not, I guess my mind has associated that episode to the place. Maybe it's the recent social media hints of my ex moving on to someone else. Trivial really, yet I seem to be affected. I guess if there's anything I should take away from this recent experience, it's that I have much work left in processing this grief. But I am hopeful of moving on, that's for sure.
For another, the people I have been meeting the past few days, both new and familiar, have been an immense blessing during this season of my life. Perhaps it is through His good timing that I got to experience the interactions I have been having the past few days,and as it turns out they were precisely what I needed to move through the relapse.
San Jose was kind to me, my cousin's friends played host to the two of us and were immensely generous with their time and resources, and that did quite a bit to take my mind off things. Yet Los Angeles was kinder still, in spite of her rough edges, where I got to meet with two friends I knew from ICOM, of whom I've not chatted with in years. Indeed this reunion was refreshing and meaningful; the conversations about life, love, grief, and hope were what I needed but didn't know I need. And friends that I thought I may have lost through time, turned out to feel like we were never parted to begin with.
I guess ultimately, I just wanted to pen down this strange, yet rather optimistic hope that I have moving forward, as I prepare to return home, what come may. Here's to a brighter future, in spite of my doubts.
Friday, May 3, 2019
Endgame, Wicked, and then some.
28th of April, 2019. Let it be known that I witnessed the phenomenon that is Endgame.
Ok, now that I've gotten the ham out of the way... Well, I did thoroughly enjoy being part of a generation that grew up with the Marvel Cinematic Universe. A whole lot of feels and emotions during the viewing, definitely a worthwhile experience to keep a note on.
Right after that, went to watch Wicked, probably my first musical in-person, and it was marvellous.
All in all, it was quite a sensory-overload for a single day.
Well, moving forward, more interesting shows to behold in the future hopefully.
Ok, now that I've gotten the ham out of the way... Well, I did thoroughly enjoy being part of a generation that grew up with the Marvel Cinematic Universe. A whole lot of feels and emotions during the viewing, definitely a worthwhile experience to keep a note on.
Right after that, went to watch Wicked, probably my first musical in-person, and it was marvellous.
All in all, it was quite a sensory-overload for a single day.
Well, moving forward, more interesting shows to behold in the future hopefully.
Tuesday, April 16, 2019
Notre-Dame de Paris.
15th of April 2019, Notre-Dame de Paris burns. Didn't think that a scene from a Disney movie would play out in real life.
I lament the incident, the damage that the cathedral suffered, the roof and spire, dating back to the 14th century, a glimpse into our past... True, things can be restored, but it won't quite be the same.
Tragic as it may be, I also ponder why a building, a lifeless entity, can evoke such strong reactions from the people, myself included. What essence does this place hold that I should weep for her? Am I taken by the works of men that I should forget that the church is a people, not a place?
Nevertheless, I am a sucker for historical buildings... I had hoped that I would get the opportunity to visit it in the near future. I suppose I won't get to see its original glory.
Yet I believe I could find joy in its new form, the symbol of resilience and revival.
Until then.
Sunday, March 17, 2019
Recent lamentations.
Stay The Night
It's not a new song, although the emotions it evokes feel just as fresh. 2012 doesn't feel that long ago, really, yet to put it in perspective, it's been 7 years.
So what does the song remind me of?
The final month with her, reckless abandon and all.
It's not quite the same kind of melancholy as compared to the initial months post break-up, but it nonetheless toys with my recent doubts pertaining to the whole US studies endeavour.
Just simply hinging on this doubt was enough to trigger a whole host of buried ambivalent thoughts about that final month, the madness of it all.
Yet the song captures that bittersweet experience with simple words.
Music, a double-edged sword.
Alas.
...
Terrorism in New Zealand
The mosque shooting in Christchurch.
'Tis madness, a senseless agenda with a tragic ending.
I lament for the lives lost. A man greeting "Salam brother" to another with open arms, only to be shot... It's just... Tragic.
This doesn't affect me directly, yet it pains me that someone can be so full of hate to see sense in murder.
Alas.
It's not a new song, although the emotions it evokes feel just as fresh. 2012 doesn't feel that long ago, really, yet to put it in perspective, it's been 7 years.
So what does the song remind me of?
The final month with her, reckless abandon and all.
It's not quite the same kind of melancholy as compared to the initial months post break-up, but it nonetheless toys with my recent doubts pertaining to the whole US studies endeavour.
Just simply hinging on this doubt was enough to trigger a whole host of buried ambivalent thoughts about that final month, the madness of it all.
Yet the song captures that bittersweet experience with simple words.
Music, a double-edged sword.
Alas.
...
Terrorism in New Zealand
The mosque shooting in Christchurch.
'Tis madness, a senseless agenda with a tragic ending.
I lament for the lives lost. A man greeting "Salam brother" to another with open arms, only to be shot... It's just... Tragic.
This doesn't affect me directly, yet it pains me that someone can be so full of hate to see sense in murder.
Alas.
Monday, March 11, 2019
Postings from Airports
Sky Harbor:
Contemplation on my recent melancholy
As I write this entry, I await for my turn to board my flight to Houston. I'll be going to visit my uncle who lives there for the spring break weekend, he has insisted I drop by a few times now, and I'm finally acting on that invitation.
There will be one important conversation to be had during that trip. I may need to ask for a loan from him to continue my studies here beyond my second year.
I'm beginning to feel the doubts creep in, the anxiety that encroaches around my decision to come to the U.S. in the first place, and the issue of face (which admittedly is a little petty, but it is never a pleasant thing to ask so much of someone with no certainty that I can repay them, at least not as soon as I'd have liked).
It all ties back to her, more than I'd like to admit. I had thought that my resolve to continue my studies despite the break up was at this point steadfast and self-sufficient.
If my recent moodiness is any indicator, I may be mistaken. Somehow whenever I fall into my brooding episodes, she suddenly comes to the forefront of my thoughts, and I'd think to myself all over again, 'you messed up big time. Got yourself into a huge student debt and you're not even sure if you're doing it for yourself... Will your interest in the subject alone carry you through this? Even if you ace this, are the odds in your favour that you'd get a good gig here long-term?'
And the cacophony of ill thoughts will persist from there, cascading down the endless abyss of my despair.
Hopefully my future is brighter than my thoughts.
...
George Bush International:
A reflection after rest and respite
Now I write while awaiting for my flight back to Phoenix, thought I'd pen down some reflections after what was a thoroughly enjoyable holiday in Houston with my uncle and aunt.
To say the least, I didn't even realise how much I'd get out of these few days of recreation, my uncle saw to it that I'd get the most out of my few days of visit despite his gout in his right ankle.
The highlights of the trip were definitely my visits to the Johnson Space Center (NASA) and Houston Museum of Natural Science, a treat to the childlike part of my curiosity for space exploration and dinosaurs. Oh, and I definitely can't miss out on mentioning how the food here is great! BBQ, Tex-Mex, Dim Sum, and Phở, to name a few.
It is with a heavy heart that I leave this place. So much left to see, I'll definitely want to make another trip in the near future, maybe I'll get to meet my cousin and his family the next time around.
Of course, I'll have to mention the one solemn aspect of the trip. I finally had the discussion of the loan with my uncle. He was definitely very gracious about the whole discussion, but the reality is that I am still asking a lot out of it.
I guess in the end, I really want to talk to someone about this. The burden that comes with this endeavour, the underlying complicated feelings I have coming from how this whole undertaking is related to my previous relationship, even despite the amount of work that I've put into detaching myself from it... The worries and anxiety about this whole episode in my life.
Ah well, we'll see.
In the mean time, I am content for now. 'Twas a good rest.
Here's to more good times ahead.
Contemplation on my recent melancholy
As I write this entry, I await for my turn to board my flight to Houston. I'll be going to visit my uncle who lives there for the spring break weekend, he has insisted I drop by a few times now, and I'm finally acting on that invitation.
There will be one important conversation to be had during that trip. I may need to ask for a loan from him to continue my studies here beyond my second year.
I'm beginning to feel the doubts creep in, the anxiety that encroaches around my decision to come to the U.S. in the first place, and the issue of face (which admittedly is a little petty, but it is never a pleasant thing to ask so much of someone with no certainty that I can repay them, at least not as soon as I'd have liked).
It all ties back to her, more than I'd like to admit. I had thought that my resolve to continue my studies despite the break up was at this point steadfast and self-sufficient.
If my recent moodiness is any indicator, I may be mistaken. Somehow whenever I fall into my brooding episodes, she suddenly comes to the forefront of my thoughts, and I'd think to myself all over again, 'you messed up big time. Got yourself into a huge student debt and you're not even sure if you're doing it for yourself... Will your interest in the subject alone carry you through this? Even if you ace this, are the odds in your favour that you'd get a good gig here long-term?'
And the cacophony of ill thoughts will persist from there, cascading down the endless abyss of my despair.
Hopefully my future is brighter than my thoughts.
...
George Bush International:
A reflection after rest and respite
Now I write while awaiting for my flight back to Phoenix, thought I'd pen down some reflections after what was a thoroughly enjoyable holiday in Houston with my uncle and aunt.
To say the least, I didn't even realise how much I'd get out of these few days of recreation, my uncle saw to it that I'd get the most out of my few days of visit despite his gout in his right ankle.
The highlights of the trip were definitely my visits to the Johnson Space Center (NASA) and Houston Museum of Natural Science, a treat to the childlike part of my curiosity for space exploration and dinosaurs. Oh, and I definitely can't miss out on mentioning how the food here is great! BBQ, Tex-Mex, Dim Sum, and Phở, to name a few.
It is with a heavy heart that I leave this place. So much left to see, I'll definitely want to make another trip in the near future, maybe I'll get to meet my cousin and his family the next time around.
Of course, I'll have to mention the one solemn aspect of the trip. I finally had the discussion of the loan with my uncle. He was definitely very gracious about the whole discussion, but the reality is that I am still asking a lot out of it.
I guess in the end, I really want to talk to someone about this. The burden that comes with this endeavour, the underlying complicated feelings I have coming from how this whole undertaking is related to my previous relationship, even despite the amount of work that I've put into detaching myself from it... The worries and anxiety about this whole episode in my life.
Ah well, we'll see.
In the mean time, I am content for now. 'Twas a good rest.
Here's to more good times ahead.
Thursday, February 28, 2019
Grey skies, dull thoughts, pensive week.
Robbery
It's always a dreadful feeling, getting news of a loved one getting hurt. My mum was robbed yesterday, someone snatched her bag, and she took a fall. Thankfully her wounds aren't severe, a little shaken was she, but I don't doubt she'll weather through it soon enough. Good thing too that my father and sister were with her soon after the incident.
The news did make me realise how unprepared I was in receiving it. My heart sank, thoughts about how removed I am from the situation just made me frustrated. My mum was hurt, and I can't be there for her...
This time she got out fine for the most part, but what if something happens next time? It's a terrible thought, but sobering all the same, realising that I'm so far away from family right now, all I can do is hope that nothing worse happens from now, not at least until I get to see them again... Alas.
...
Rainy Thursday
The best way to get me moody? Let it rain.
I hate the rain. There aren't a lot of things in this world that elicits that word from me. Yet, I hate the rain.
Ironic, since I was raised in the tropics, a rain-forest country. But, I still hate the rain.
To top it off, there exists a period of time where I tolerated the rain, even thought it charming, for the sake of someone I once held dear, since she adored the rain. Well, she left me. So need I say more about the fact that I hate the rain evermore so? Well, I hate the rain.
Now that we've established my passionate disdain to the little droplets in the sky, allow me to report that it has been raining the whole day. Here... In the desert... Where it's suppose to be dry and arid... Not to mention hot? Don't even get me started on the cold temperatures, spring is long overdue yet we're still stuck with winter chills.
Alas.
...
Pensive thoughts
I suppose the combination of the above few occurrences, paired with a rather lukewarm service at BP earlier today, has made me rather pensive again.
Slow service, yet I made so many small mistakes here and there. I'm starting to feel the inadequacy again, the same feeling I had when I was working back in the studio.
Am I being overly sensitive? Insecure? Or am I genuinely incompetent? Either reasons are equally unpleasant.
I've been ruminating on her again, at least indirectly. This whole endeavour coming here to the US to study, can sometimes be an overwhelming thought. Did I make the wise choice by coming here? Was it impulse? Much that I'd like to pin the blame on my past lover for a decision I made, it's not that simple, nor is it any fair to think like that.
Yet, there exist this mild resentment I guess, this slight curiosity in my mind where I imagine an alternate reality where I never left home.
Would I have been happier had I stayed? I'm actually not sure. Come to think of it, I wouldn't have been happy either way. Though not incurring a debt would've been nice, then again, I'd have probably felt stagnated in life back home.
Huge risk, huge pay-off I guess. Might as well find a reason to be happy now. Wish me luck.
...
A Batu Pahat boy's brave journey
There was a boy from Batu Pahat. His family wasn't wealthy, but they got by decently enough. He grew up with a lofty aspiration towards the start of his life as a young adult, right around the 80's. He wanted to study in the U.S..
His family opposed, they couldn't possibly afford the endeavour. He took a leap of faith, he promised that he'll manage by pulling his own bootstraps.
And so he went, to a town in Utah to begin his journey. Studying as a foreign student in the heart of the U.S. was already a challenge in those days. But the young man needed to do more if wanted to continue his study, he began waiting at a restaurant.
Gruelling hours, difficult tasks, high expectations, yet menial wages. Nevertheless, he began to thrive, outperforming all his colleagues. 8 plates on one hand, 3 cups on the other, he was an efficient machine during the peak hours. Even during down time, he eventually became one of the fastest wrapper of dumplings.
While all that was happening, his home life was anything but glamorous. Outings for dinner were minimal, and while I'm not entirely sure, I would wager that he sacrificed much in his own social life. Even meals at home were bare basics. A loaf of bread nearing expiry to last most weeks, with nothing but a bottle of chilli sauce as his spread. He did all these things without uttering a word to his family regarding the hardship, for fear of worrying them, and it went on that way till his graduation.
This is the story of my current boss' brother. I'm here retelling his tale because I wanted to ruminate on the implications and parallels to my own experiences.
Suffice to say, his story made me feel like I'm not doing enough to strive for excellence. I came here with generally favourable conditions, I have relatives here, a safety net in terms of financing, and even a loan. He came over here with nothing but his will...
Am I doing enough? I'm not sure...
...
Kind gestures
To end this seemingly gloomy entry, I suppose I'd like to highlight two recent cheerier occurrences.
For one, an elderly couple that I had the pleasure to be acquainted with at English Corner offered to treat me to the musical "Wicked" that is coming up in April. I've been meaning to save up for the show, and I briefly mentioned about it to them in some of our past conversations. Needless to say I am pleasantly surprised by the gesture.
For another, I was chosen as the member of the month for the Music Therapy Students Organization. Again, it's something I didn't expect, but I guess a small acknowledgement from them does help lift my spirits of late.
I guess that's it for this week's entry. Until then.
It's always a dreadful feeling, getting news of a loved one getting hurt. My mum was robbed yesterday, someone snatched her bag, and she took a fall. Thankfully her wounds aren't severe, a little shaken was she, but I don't doubt she'll weather through it soon enough. Good thing too that my father and sister were with her soon after the incident.
The news did make me realise how unprepared I was in receiving it. My heart sank, thoughts about how removed I am from the situation just made me frustrated. My mum was hurt, and I can't be there for her...
This time she got out fine for the most part, but what if something happens next time? It's a terrible thought, but sobering all the same, realising that I'm so far away from family right now, all I can do is hope that nothing worse happens from now, not at least until I get to see them again... Alas.
...
Rainy Thursday
The best way to get me moody? Let it rain.
I hate the rain. There aren't a lot of things in this world that elicits that word from me. Yet, I hate the rain.
Ironic, since I was raised in the tropics, a rain-forest country. But, I still hate the rain.
To top it off, there exists a period of time where I tolerated the rain, even thought it charming, for the sake of someone I once held dear, since she adored the rain. Well, she left me. So need I say more about the fact that I hate the rain evermore so? Well, I hate the rain.
Now that we've established my passionate disdain to the little droplets in the sky, allow me to report that it has been raining the whole day. Here... In the desert... Where it's suppose to be dry and arid... Not to mention hot? Don't even get me started on the cold temperatures, spring is long overdue yet we're still stuck with winter chills.
Alas.
...
Pensive thoughts
I suppose the combination of the above few occurrences, paired with a rather lukewarm service at BP earlier today, has made me rather pensive again.
Slow service, yet I made so many small mistakes here and there. I'm starting to feel the inadequacy again, the same feeling I had when I was working back in the studio.
Am I being overly sensitive? Insecure? Or am I genuinely incompetent? Either reasons are equally unpleasant.
I've been ruminating on her again, at least indirectly. This whole endeavour coming here to the US to study, can sometimes be an overwhelming thought. Did I make the wise choice by coming here? Was it impulse? Much that I'd like to pin the blame on my past lover for a decision I made, it's not that simple, nor is it any fair to think like that.
Yet, there exist this mild resentment I guess, this slight curiosity in my mind where I imagine an alternate reality where I never left home.
Would I have been happier had I stayed? I'm actually not sure. Come to think of it, I wouldn't have been happy either way. Though not incurring a debt would've been nice, then again, I'd have probably felt stagnated in life back home.
Huge risk, huge pay-off I guess. Might as well find a reason to be happy now. Wish me luck.
...
A Batu Pahat boy's brave journey
There was a boy from Batu Pahat. His family wasn't wealthy, but they got by decently enough. He grew up with a lofty aspiration towards the start of his life as a young adult, right around the 80's. He wanted to study in the U.S..
His family opposed, they couldn't possibly afford the endeavour. He took a leap of faith, he promised that he'll manage by pulling his own bootstraps.
And so he went, to a town in Utah to begin his journey. Studying as a foreign student in the heart of the U.S. was already a challenge in those days. But the young man needed to do more if wanted to continue his study, he began waiting at a restaurant.
Gruelling hours, difficult tasks, high expectations, yet menial wages. Nevertheless, he began to thrive, outperforming all his colleagues. 8 plates on one hand, 3 cups on the other, he was an efficient machine during the peak hours. Even during down time, he eventually became one of the fastest wrapper of dumplings.
While all that was happening, his home life was anything but glamorous. Outings for dinner were minimal, and while I'm not entirely sure, I would wager that he sacrificed much in his own social life. Even meals at home were bare basics. A loaf of bread nearing expiry to last most weeks, with nothing but a bottle of chilli sauce as his spread. He did all these things without uttering a word to his family regarding the hardship, for fear of worrying them, and it went on that way till his graduation.
This is the story of my current boss' brother. I'm here retelling his tale because I wanted to ruminate on the implications and parallels to my own experiences.
Suffice to say, his story made me feel like I'm not doing enough to strive for excellence. I came here with generally favourable conditions, I have relatives here, a safety net in terms of financing, and even a loan. He came over here with nothing but his will...
Am I doing enough? I'm not sure...
...
Kind gestures
To end this seemingly gloomy entry, I suppose I'd like to highlight two recent cheerier occurrences.
For one, an elderly couple that I had the pleasure to be acquainted with at English Corner offered to treat me to the musical "Wicked" that is coming up in April. I've been meaning to save up for the show, and I briefly mentioned about it to them in some of our past conversations. Needless to say I am pleasantly surprised by the gesture.
For another, I was chosen as the member of the month for the Music Therapy Students Organization. Again, it's something I didn't expect, but I guess a small acknowledgement from them does help lift my spirits of late.
I guess that's it for this week's entry. Until then.
Tuesday, February 19, 2019
Postings from ASU's Music Library.
A continuation of my collection of individual narratives from the past week or so. I suspect this will be a regular format I'll use from now on.
...
Parental wounds
Ever heard of attachment theory? It posits that the upbringing of an individual can be significant in shaping their adult experiences and the way they behave. Sure, people intuitively know that to be true, but far too often, they don't spend the time to address the small issues until it's too late, and their behaviour becomes destructive.
I contemplate my own upbringing. It wasn't particularly traumatic by any stretch of the imagination, and I find that my parental relations are, for the most part, in a healthy place.
With that said, I am now living with my uncle and aunt, and they are very much functioning as my adoptive parents, since I'm not fully independent as of now, relying on their generosity in hosting me while I conduct my studies in the US.
The dynamic between myself and them is an interesting one to say the least. With my uncle, it's actually not bad at all. It's my interaction with my aunt that does give rise to a sense of anxiety.
It's not particularly bad, but it's just there, a little bit more work to navigate through, that's all. I suppose I'll elaborate in my next narrative chunk.
...
When your mum is your aunt
You may think the title refers to my current situation. Well, in a way it is an indirect reference, but I'm actually thinking more about the (now probably archaic) Chinese family habit of raising one's children to refer to themselves not as parent, but as uncle and aunt.
Apparently the purpose of this practice is to create a deliberate distance between child and parent, the rationale behind being that many Chinese families in the past see affection and attachment as an impractical aspect to the family dynamic, where duty and hierarchy are more important. Of course, by our modern understanding of parenthood, this could be seen as quite counter-intuitive, and somewhat cruel.
Personally, I'm not quite on board with said approach, yet it is what it is, and it had its place in a world that was recovering from WWII. Thankfully nowadays, most families don't practice this anymore, but the remnants of said habit is still present in the older generation.
In fact, the whole reason why I thought about it is because the lady owner of the Malaysian restaurant that I'm currently helping out still refers to her mum as aunt. Actually, my father and his siblings used to refer to my grandma as their aunt as well, and it only changed in recent years when my grandma mellowed down and decided to connect with her kids on a more emotional level.
...
Mild tensions
On a somewhat related note, my aunt whom I'm currently staying with also came from a family that did the above. And to my limited understanding, her relationship with her own mother is lukewarm at best.
I guess that's why I'm feeling a bit of tension between myself and her. Here's the thing, I don't doubt that she has the best intentions, yet there were several instances where I felt put down, at least in the spur of the moment, and needing to put in the work to ruminate and try to understand why my aunt does what she does.
To elaborate, she can be quite nit-picky about the way I do things, and many times, the plans, the ideas I have, whatever I put on the table to discuss over dinner, is often met with critical questions and suggestions laced with a hint of condescension.
Now here's the thing. I understand the intention, I understand that it is a result of her own upbringing, and with some effort, I appreciate it. But all the same, it requires effort to internalise and understand that this is her way of expressing her concern, affection even.
Nonetheless, in the spur of the moment when it happens, it can feel quite disconcerting. And frankly, it can weigh down on me during bad days, and sometimes it triggers my shame, which I am recently realising is the main area of my struggle in terms of parental wounding, of which the details I've yet to properly hash out yet. I guess in due time, I will find a way to navigate this.
...
Phoenix Zoo
I guess to segue this post, I want to write about some totally unrelated happenings to all the previous posts, more or less of a lighter nature.
I went to the zoo the past weekend, and it was fun a refreshing to say the least. I went with ASU English Corner, with the people I've been meeting for the past few months, and getting to have interesting conversations with them.
...
Redeeming service
And after the fact, I went on to finish the day at the Malaysian restaurant, helping out the evening service. After last week's unsavoury experience, it was kind of nice to finish the evening strong with not too many complains or hiccups.
Being a little self-critical in saying this, but I thought it wasn't a very busy evening. With that said, the fact that I managed it well did still nurse a bit of the shame from last week's blunder.
If I may end on a rumination, I wonder how fair am I being towards myself. I messed up one table last week, but am I ignoring all the other tables that enjoyed my service? I ask this question with full of doubt, because it is all too easy to be dismissive towards my good performance, and just be utterly consumed by that one mistake. Seems like I can only be satisfied if I get through the evening without even a single issue, preferably if it were a busy evening.
Signs of being an unhealthy perfectionist? Perhaps.
...
Sk8er Boy?
Too Zongxu, trying to learn how to ride a skateboard. Who would've thought?
As it is, I got myself a used longboard, supposedly one of the easier variant among skateboard types for a beginner to learn.
Hoping to use it eventually in my campus commute, given the distance I seem to be covering on average. A bicycle would be too bulky, and a kick scooter would be a little pricey.
Not to mention I lucked out on this longboard, got it at a pretty cheap price, and it turns out the board model itself is a pretty popular one, regularly being recommended for beginners, at least according to the skateboarding online community.
First ride over the weekend wasn't easy. I knew to expect that it will take some time to acquire the skills to ride one of these, but what I didn't expect is how physically demanding it can get just to stay balanced, I could feel my core muscles becoming sore by the end of the practice ride. Ah well, hopefully I won't take too long to get the basics down and start using it.
...
Parental wounds
Ever heard of attachment theory? It posits that the upbringing of an individual can be significant in shaping their adult experiences and the way they behave. Sure, people intuitively know that to be true, but far too often, they don't spend the time to address the small issues until it's too late, and their behaviour becomes destructive.
I contemplate my own upbringing. It wasn't particularly traumatic by any stretch of the imagination, and I find that my parental relations are, for the most part, in a healthy place.
With that said, I am now living with my uncle and aunt, and they are very much functioning as my adoptive parents, since I'm not fully independent as of now, relying on their generosity in hosting me while I conduct my studies in the US.
The dynamic between myself and them is an interesting one to say the least. With my uncle, it's actually not bad at all. It's my interaction with my aunt that does give rise to a sense of anxiety.
It's not particularly bad, but it's just there, a little bit more work to navigate through, that's all. I suppose I'll elaborate in my next narrative chunk.
...
When your mum is your aunt
You may think the title refers to my current situation. Well, in a way it is an indirect reference, but I'm actually thinking more about the (now probably archaic) Chinese family habit of raising one's children to refer to themselves not as parent, but as uncle and aunt.
Apparently the purpose of this practice is to create a deliberate distance between child and parent, the rationale behind being that many Chinese families in the past see affection and attachment as an impractical aspect to the family dynamic, where duty and hierarchy are more important. Of course, by our modern understanding of parenthood, this could be seen as quite counter-intuitive, and somewhat cruel.
Personally, I'm not quite on board with said approach, yet it is what it is, and it had its place in a world that was recovering from WWII. Thankfully nowadays, most families don't practice this anymore, but the remnants of said habit is still present in the older generation.
In fact, the whole reason why I thought about it is because the lady owner of the Malaysian restaurant that I'm currently helping out still refers to her mum as aunt. Actually, my father and his siblings used to refer to my grandma as their aunt as well, and it only changed in recent years when my grandma mellowed down and decided to connect with her kids on a more emotional level.
...
Mild tensions
On a somewhat related note, my aunt whom I'm currently staying with also came from a family that did the above. And to my limited understanding, her relationship with her own mother is lukewarm at best.
I guess that's why I'm feeling a bit of tension between myself and her. Here's the thing, I don't doubt that she has the best intentions, yet there were several instances where I felt put down, at least in the spur of the moment, and needing to put in the work to ruminate and try to understand why my aunt does what she does.
To elaborate, she can be quite nit-picky about the way I do things, and many times, the plans, the ideas I have, whatever I put on the table to discuss over dinner, is often met with critical questions and suggestions laced with a hint of condescension.
Now here's the thing. I understand the intention, I understand that it is a result of her own upbringing, and with some effort, I appreciate it. But all the same, it requires effort to internalise and understand that this is her way of expressing her concern, affection even.
Nonetheless, in the spur of the moment when it happens, it can feel quite disconcerting. And frankly, it can weigh down on me during bad days, and sometimes it triggers my shame, which I am recently realising is the main area of my struggle in terms of parental wounding, of which the details I've yet to properly hash out yet. I guess in due time, I will find a way to navigate this.
...
Phoenix Zoo
I guess to segue this post, I want to write about some totally unrelated happenings to all the previous posts, more or less of a lighter nature.
I went to the zoo the past weekend, and it was fun a refreshing to say the least. I went with ASU English Corner, with the people I've been meeting for the past few months, and getting to have interesting conversations with them.
...
Redeeming service
And after the fact, I went on to finish the day at the Malaysian restaurant, helping out the evening service. After last week's unsavoury experience, it was kind of nice to finish the evening strong with not too many complains or hiccups.
Being a little self-critical in saying this, but I thought it wasn't a very busy evening. With that said, the fact that I managed it well did still nurse a bit of the shame from last week's blunder.
If I may end on a rumination, I wonder how fair am I being towards myself. I messed up one table last week, but am I ignoring all the other tables that enjoyed my service? I ask this question with full of doubt, because it is all too easy to be dismissive towards my good performance, and just be utterly consumed by that one mistake. Seems like I can only be satisfied if I get through the evening without even a single issue, preferably if it were a busy evening.
Signs of being an unhealthy perfectionist? Perhaps.
...
Sk8er Boy?
Too Zongxu, trying to learn how to ride a skateboard. Who would've thought?
As it is, I got myself a used longboard, supposedly one of the easier variant among skateboard types for a beginner to learn.
Hoping to use it eventually in my campus commute, given the distance I seem to be covering on average. A bicycle would be too bulky, and a kick scooter would be a little pricey.
Not to mention I lucked out on this longboard, got it at a pretty cheap price, and it turns out the board model itself is a pretty popular one, regularly being recommended for beginners, at least according to the skateboarding online community.
First ride over the weekend wasn't easy. I knew to expect that it will take some time to acquire the skills to ride one of these, but what I didn't expect is how physically demanding it can get just to stay balanced, I could feel my core muscles becoming sore by the end of the practice ride. Ah well, hopefully I won't take too long to get the basics down and start using it.
Friday, February 15, 2019
Valentines Haiku.
Well who would've thought that having an English composition class session dedicated to valentines day would happen to me? Ah well, we're suppose to prepare something, so I thought I'd try my hand in some haiku.
Poetry's not my strength,
words and rhymes are such a chore.
Please cheer my attempt.
'Tis Valentine's day,
chocolates, kisses, and couples.
All lovely things, you'd say.
Not for me at all,
I would prefer a buffet,
where the fee is small.
I may go solo,
But buffet's still a good choice,
even for a duo.
Hear me out on this,
picture yourselves at the date,
happy, full of bliss.
But also famished,
that's when your love leans in close.
You'd think for a kiss
A peck on your lips?
Alas, you' have been deceived!
They wanted your chips.
But rejoice my friends,
For this is an all-you-can-eat!
Munch-on till the end.
So, my toast to thee,
To the couples, do have fun.
To the rest, I'm free.
Poetry's not my strength,
words and rhymes are such a chore.
Please cheer my attempt.
'Tis Valentine's day,
chocolates, kisses, and couples.
All lovely things, you'd say.
Not for me at all,
I would prefer a buffet,
where the fee is small.
I may go solo,
But buffet's still a good choice,
even for a duo.
Hear me out on this,
picture yourselves at the date,
happy, full of bliss.
But also famished,
that's when your love leans in close.
You'd think for a kiss
A peck on your lips?
Alas, you' have been deceived!
They wanted your chips.
But rejoice my friends,
For this is an all-you-can-eat!
Munch-on till the end.
So, my toast to thee,
To the couples, do have fun.
To the rest, I'm free.
Sunday, February 10, 2019
One bad service, one angry table.
Dear no one,
How are you? Once again I seek your ever patient self to lend me an ear, hear out my troubles for the time being, since I have naught a person to shed my frustrations on.
One specific instruction, one caveat that was simple enough to understand. I was to make sure their meal was vegetarian.
Service was busy, we had a table of ten people occupy the centre of the restaurant at that time. That table put a choke hold in the kitchen cue.
Roti canai, and a vegetarian fried rice. What could go wrong?
Well, curry that came with the roti canai has chicken in it.
Stupid mistake. Amateur. Stupid...
Customer was pissed.
Long wait didn't help at all.
Customer became more pissed...
Should have asked the kitchen, double checked the contents... Should have warned them that the meal will take a while.... Should have kept them posted, be more apologetic, more transparent...
Ah well, I guess 'tis the rite of passage, helping out in hospitality and services.
Alas.
How are you? Once again I seek your ever patient self to lend me an ear, hear out my troubles for the time being, since I have naught a person to shed my frustrations on.
One specific instruction, one caveat that was simple enough to understand. I was to make sure their meal was vegetarian.
Service was busy, we had a table of ten people occupy the centre of the restaurant at that time. That table put a choke hold in the kitchen cue.
Roti canai, and a vegetarian fried rice. What could go wrong?
Well, curry that came with the roti canai has chicken in it.
Stupid mistake. Amateur. Stupid...
Customer was pissed.
Long wait didn't help at all.
Customer became more pissed...
Should have asked the kitchen, double checked the contents... Should have warned them that the meal will take a while.... Should have kept them posted, be more apologetic, more transparent...
Ah well, I guess 'tis the rite of passage, helping out in hospitality and services.
Alas.
Thursday, January 31, 2019
Postings from the basement of a library.
A continuation of disparate stories from my past week...
...
A pleasant dream of sorts
I felt that silly grin of mine even if it were just a fragment of my fantasy. There I was, seemingly comfortable, at ease, and pleased.
I saw her across the counter, somehow we were hanging out in a kitchen...
Why am I so delighted to see her? I cannot know for sure... Call it a crush, an infatuation... All I know is my heart melted the moment she smiled... That wordless smile... Just as I told her how I thought she was oh so pretty.
It all faded to dust soon after. Glad was I nevertheless, once it ended there, to simply be a vignette of a sweet moment that never happened...
Perhaps not yet anyway.
(Fingers crossed)
...
Gastronomical sadness
I recall in the days of my youth of a certain man I quite certainly admired. Anthony Bourdain, explorer of food and culture (and everything in between).
Of course, after I went to college, I stopped watching his shows for a time. His passing just around the middle of last year was an unpleasant surprise to say the least, but I haven't truly sat with the sadness, perhaps because of my ongoing struggles at that time, what with the break-up and moving to the U.S..
The grieve is finally setting in I guess. Recent viewings of his "Parts Unknown" stirred up fond memories of my younger years. Innocence and joy, watching him eat and drink. After all, he was instrumental in making me appreciate newness and novelty, especially with regards to food.
And now, with the benefit of age and wisdom, I realise that beyond those things, he made me appreciate narratives, stories... Perspectives that he witnessed during his travels, he shared with me generously.
That makes the lost all the more despairing for me.
...
Knitting or crocheting?
I have a growing fascination for scarves. Truthfully, I didn't think that they'd be so effective at heat retention, until I started using one. Bonus points for lightening up my usually dull wardrobe.
Impulse has led me to want to make my next scarf. But I can't quite decide, should I knit, or should I crochet? Small difference to most people, but for me, it is somewhat a small investment at the end of the day, so I'll have to think it through. But oh well, more scarves for me eventually.
...
The quarter-life existential dread
And of course, I've inevitably reached the point of my musings where I need to brood.
You know, despite being in a generally cheery and fortunate place right now, being able to have another shot at studies and all, I feel the impeding crash that is this debt I'm incurring. Add to that the nagging of my age amidst the young blood that surrounds me.
I feel detached in a sense, no longer possessing the enthusiasm and innocence of that demographic, yet not truly self-sufficient as one would expect of someone at my age.
I don't admit it much, but I am worried, feeling somewhat worthless in this state of limbo.
Alas.
...
...
A pleasant dream of sorts
I felt that silly grin of mine even if it were just a fragment of my fantasy. There I was, seemingly comfortable, at ease, and pleased.
I saw her across the counter, somehow we were hanging out in a kitchen...
Why am I so delighted to see her? I cannot know for sure... Call it a crush, an infatuation... All I know is my heart melted the moment she smiled... That wordless smile... Just as I told her how I thought she was oh so pretty.
It all faded to dust soon after. Glad was I nevertheless, once it ended there, to simply be a vignette of a sweet moment that never happened...
Perhaps not yet anyway.
(Fingers crossed)
...
Gastronomical sadness
I recall in the days of my youth of a certain man I quite certainly admired. Anthony Bourdain, explorer of food and culture (and everything in between).
Of course, after I went to college, I stopped watching his shows for a time. His passing just around the middle of last year was an unpleasant surprise to say the least, but I haven't truly sat with the sadness, perhaps because of my ongoing struggles at that time, what with the break-up and moving to the U.S..
The grieve is finally setting in I guess. Recent viewings of his "Parts Unknown" stirred up fond memories of my younger years. Innocence and joy, watching him eat and drink. After all, he was instrumental in making me appreciate newness and novelty, especially with regards to food.
And now, with the benefit of age and wisdom, I realise that beyond those things, he made me appreciate narratives, stories... Perspectives that he witnessed during his travels, he shared with me generously.
That makes the lost all the more despairing for me.
...
Knitting or crocheting?
I have a growing fascination for scarves. Truthfully, I didn't think that they'd be so effective at heat retention, until I started using one. Bonus points for lightening up my usually dull wardrobe.
Impulse has led me to want to make my next scarf. But I can't quite decide, should I knit, or should I crochet? Small difference to most people, but for me, it is somewhat a small investment at the end of the day, so I'll have to think it through. But oh well, more scarves for me eventually.
...
The quarter-life existential dread
And of course, I've inevitably reached the point of my musings where I need to brood.
You know, despite being in a generally cheery and fortunate place right now, being able to have another shot at studies and all, I feel the impeding crash that is this debt I'm incurring. Add to that the nagging of my age amidst the young blood that surrounds me.
I feel detached in a sense, no longer possessing the enthusiasm and innocence of that demographic, yet not truly self-sufficient as one would expect of someone at my age.
I don't admit it much, but I am worried, feeling somewhat worthless in this state of limbo.
Alas.
...
Tuesday, January 22, 2019
Contemplation on plights and delights.
Narratives. It has been a bit of a focal point for me recently. Its significance, its influences, what its manifestation is like in my life of late...
There are quite a few to write of given the past week or so, so for this post I thought I'd break it down to individual stories and commentaries.
...
Weddings and marriages, left and right
Had I never left Malaysia, I would have and would be attending at least 4 different weddings by the end of 2019.
Friends are settling down, peers that were once clueless about the future are now certain they want to settle down with someone for life...
I admit, I've a tinge of envy about them. Yet for the most part, I am glad for them. In a way, I feel a certain comfort in knowing that there are people out there, friends of mine to be exact, that were able to find it in themselves to settle down. That gives me hope for my own.
...
Drummer with an identity crisis
A Japanese drummer, raised in Malaysia, studied in the US and found his calling there... Only to be confronted with the end of his OPT nearing. Without a Visa renewal, his only choice might be to return to Japan.
I just described a friend I knew from my ICOM days. We weren't close, but he recently opened-up on facebook in a rather candid manner regarding his anxieties and fears, quite unexpected given his usually stoic and bold character, which I admired to a degree. You can imagine the predicament, given how he's not spent much time in Japan, yet that is suppose to be his home country.
I suppose it resonated with me in that moment when I read his writings, to realise that even the best of us (and I definitely saw him as a man of many great talents) have hidden troubles.
May he achieve his hopes and dreams, and failing that, find the courage to accept what's ahead of him.
...
Estranged lovers
They were sweet, sweet while they lasted. I think it was close to 3 and a half years together? I was close to the guy, and I heard him pour his heart out some after the break-up, we shared our frustrations with each other, since I went through some of the same around the same time.
Recently though, she opened-up on facebook, shed a bit of light on her side of the story. Hints of mind games, emotional abuse, unsavoury things. Polite as she was about it, the added perspective is unsettling, especially being a friend of his.
That got me thinking... What of my own ex? What's her narrative about me now that we're apart? Should I be worried? I was fairly certain I didn't overstep boundaries... Yet that is only my perspective...
Sobering up to that possibility though, might be one of the reasons why I'm keener than ever to move on, to renew my perspectives...
May they find peace in each other eventually, as do I with my own ex.
...
Twisted dreams and beautiful nightmares
In other news, odd as it is, I have recent recurring dreams about my ex. Once a week for the past 3 weeks or so. Some are more pleasant than others, but they all left me wanting and upset once I awake. All in all, not very enjoyable.
That makes me wonder though... Why?
Impatient as I am in wanting to move on, it seems like I think of her still. Alas, still some work left to be done.
...
Death of a founder
I suppose the fitting end to a post that started with marriages is death (my little nod to Shakespeare, if you will).
Tom Shrader passed away on the 13th of January 2019. His legacy is one Redemption Church, along with the countless lives he had influenced during his time on earth.
Truth is I barely know the man, having never formally met him nor heard him preach since the time I arrived here. He was battling with cancer then, so who can fault him?
Yet the stories that poured in from people all around the state, even country, speaks of a man who served and sacrificed.
Inspiring, daunting... Will I ever reach those heights of generosity and good will? Perhaps one day.
For now, let me lament this passing, for even though I knew him only a little, I cannot ignore his works, and the testimonies of his people.
There are quite a few to write of given the past week or so, so for this post I thought I'd break it down to individual stories and commentaries.
...
Weddings and marriages, left and right
Had I never left Malaysia, I would have and would be attending at least 4 different weddings by the end of 2019.
Friends are settling down, peers that were once clueless about the future are now certain they want to settle down with someone for life...
I admit, I've a tinge of envy about them. Yet for the most part, I am glad for them. In a way, I feel a certain comfort in knowing that there are people out there, friends of mine to be exact, that were able to find it in themselves to settle down. That gives me hope for my own.
...
Drummer with an identity crisis
A Japanese drummer, raised in Malaysia, studied in the US and found his calling there... Only to be confronted with the end of his OPT nearing. Without a Visa renewal, his only choice might be to return to Japan.
I just described a friend I knew from my ICOM days. We weren't close, but he recently opened-up on facebook in a rather candid manner regarding his anxieties and fears, quite unexpected given his usually stoic and bold character, which I admired to a degree. You can imagine the predicament, given how he's not spent much time in Japan, yet that is suppose to be his home country.
I suppose it resonated with me in that moment when I read his writings, to realise that even the best of us (and I definitely saw him as a man of many great talents) have hidden troubles.
May he achieve his hopes and dreams, and failing that, find the courage to accept what's ahead of him.
...
Estranged lovers
They were sweet, sweet while they lasted. I think it was close to 3 and a half years together? I was close to the guy, and I heard him pour his heart out some after the break-up, we shared our frustrations with each other, since I went through some of the same around the same time.
Recently though, she opened-up on facebook, shed a bit of light on her side of the story. Hints of mind games, emotional abuse, unsavoury things. Polite as she was about it, the added perspective is unsettling, especially being a friend of his.
That got me thinking... What of my own ex? What's her narrative about me now that we're apart? Should I be worried? I was fairly certain I didn't overstep boundaries... Yet that is only my perspective...
Sobering up to that possibility though, might be one of the reasons why I'm keener than ever to move on, to renew my perspectives...
May they find peace in each other eventually, as do I with my own ex.
...
Twisted dreams and beautiful nightmares
In other news, odd as it is, I have recent recurring dreams about my ex. Once a week for the past 3 weeks or so. Some are more pleasant than others, but they all left me wanting and upset once I awake. All in all, not very enjoyable.
That makes me wonder though... Why?
Impatient as I am in wanting to move on, it seems like I think of her still. Alas, still some work left to be done.
...
Death of a founder
I suppose the fitting end to a post that started with marriages is death (my little nod to Shakespeare, if you will).
Tom Shrader passed away on the 13th of January 2019. His legacy is one Redemption Church, along with the countless lives he had influenced during his time on earth.
Truth is I barely know the man, having never formally met him nor heard him preach since the time I arrived here. He was battling with cancer then, so who can fault him?
Yet the stories that poured in from people all around the state, even country, speaks of a man who served and sacrificed.
Inspiring, daunting... Will I ever reach those heights of generosity and good will? Perhaps one day.
For now, let me lament this passing, for even though I knew him only a little, I cannot ignore his works, and the testimonies of his people.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)