The Identity Crisis

Remember Robert Frost's The Road Not Taken? Where Mr. Frost stood at a crossroad and chose the road less trodden? I'm standing at that very crossroad now, except that mine has more roads, some beautifully paved, some with thickets and bushes. Lucky Mr. Frost had only two choices, I have so many choices with new ones popping any time. 

This is what happens when you have too much time to consider things. You start wavering, you start considering, you start hesitating, you start doubting, you start worrying. All those not-suppose-to-appear suggestions and opinions make their ghostly appearances and haunt you throughout your free time. You become lazy and idle, and you might even lose track of your goal and ambition. Wait, I don't even have an ambition in the first place. I just lose track of my childhood dreams.

I wonder how people make those important decisions in their lives. How did they reason and weigh the consequences when these can be barely seen with the naked eye? Did they have experienced grannies and grandpas to advice them? Or they met inspiring people who encouraged them to make that very life-changing decision? Maybe they just have a clear mind and a clear goal and a clear skill. Unlike me, the female Jack of all trades. I can do almost anything and everything is fine for me. I can like anything and then hate it after a few minutes. My passion is like a burning candle, one day, it will extinguish. 

Sometimes, I hate this side of me. I don't have an opinion in most things, and tend to listen to the opinion of others. I'm lazy when it comes to things I don't really care about. I don't dare to voice my own opinions in front of my parents, lest they misunderstood me. Then I have to explain everything again, lose my temper, raise my voice and be an unfilial, disrespectful child. Now my weaknesses are grabbing me by the neck and suffocating me. Worst of all, I don't know what I want now.

Am I worrying too much? Am I shouldering unnecessary burdens? Am I being a Tess? Am I being too idealistic? I think about all these when I made my decision, and sometimes they render me unhappy. Is this part of becoming an adult? Or is this the laments of the naive child pretending to be mature? 

Who I am anyway? The eldest child with the burden of supporting the family? The idealistic and naive girl with wild dreams? The inconsiderate and rash lady with too much money to spend? The ordinary person with an unforeseen future? The negotiator who tries to achieve the ideal win win situation? The captain with no compass? I know I'm the architecture of my life. But architectures must consider the rationality of their designs too! They can't possibly design structures with no hope of being constructed, or with the risk of collapsing. They need to consult engineers, don't they? That's what I am doing. Now I am facing rejections here and there and criticisms everywhere.

Where's my wise and unbiased granny when I need one?

Friends and Rivalry

I planned to write about what I think about my friends after my exams, but I misplaced the plan somewhere in my brain. I found it back now. 

The first two friends have some things in common, so I grouped them together, for the sake of avoiding repetition and saving precious time, as well as keeping my readers interested with fresh thoughts and not stale ideas. So don't be offended.

Min Yien
When she got higher marks for her exams, I felt a twist somewhere within me. There's a tinge of unhappiness, a tablespoon of dissatisfaction and a dash of anger. Mixed them evenly and you get a dough of jealousy. I hate that feeling, it's an ugly emotion. Whenever I see characters in a drama act in spite out of jealousy and ruin a good relationship, I keep a memo in mind: "Never get Jealous". But I still did. I wanted to be beat her in our academics, to show her that I'm better, to give myself a sense of satisfaction of being smarter. It's hideous and I knew it.

If numbers didn't get in the way, I would admire her works. It's flowery, expressive, lively- the opposite of mine. She's the only one who shared a passion for writing as I do. If she were a famous author, I would take her as my role model, just like J.K. Rowling. I could see her enthusiasm and her love for creative writing, something I could not do, not after the English mayhem. I always think that one can see a person's character through their writing. Are they serious or playful? Lively or quiet? Pensive or spontaneous? To me, she is a springing hare in the middle of a spring field. There are lots of flowers, and she would be jumping happily under the beautiful sun. Lively. That's what her writing tells me. 

She is the person whom I wanted to defeat in the field of creative writing, my writing rival. If that makes any sense. Without her, I would not be motivated to do better. Therefore, I wanted the best for my rival/friend. I hope she doesn't give up in creative writing. Her writing is one of the best that I ever enjoyed.  I knew she could be a bit of a high achiever. She sets high goals to attain demand a great deal from herself. Maybe it's her way of life, but I would break down from the pressure. From what I had observed, it is due to her family upbringing. She always portrays herself as a lazy girl, but in truth, she must have worked hard. I hope that fallen great expectations would not ruin her, just like how it makes me collapse. I hope she stays remarkable. Because that is who she is.

Cheryl Lit
For the first time in my life, I found a soul mate. When I say soul mate, I don't mean two-people-fall-in-love-and-are-destined-to-be-together type of soul mate. Please, I am not homosexual. What I mean is two-person-who-could-understand-each-other-well type of soul mate. Despite interacting with each other for less than a year, we had a lot to talk about. We both like korean pop and watch korean dramas though she is a bit more of a drama-addict than I. She's like a real life manga female character stereotype, lively, sometimes messy and bumbly. It's really hard to believe people like that exists. We are total opposites. We share a common interest but the qualities of things we like are slightly different. Take songs for example, she likes lively and upbeat melodies while I go for the sentimental ballads. Different, yet we mesh together pretty well. We sometimes say the same things and think about the same things. Amazing right? It's the first time I felt that.

She already had her goal when she was 17, while I was still searching in the lost woods of vocations when I was at that age. She was so determined in her dreams and worked so hard for it. People think she is kiasu. But I think that she was just worried that her dreams would leave her. She minds her grades a lot, because it's the fundamental key to her future prospect. She studied really hard, researched fervently and put in tonnes of effort. I respect her for this. And I pray for her success. 

And yet, I get that hideous feeling again. It was when she was awarded top scorer for a subject. I was unhappy and disappointed. Secretly, I wished I was the one who received that award, but I didn't. For some time, it bugged me wherever I went, whatever I did. However, when we meet and started talking about the awards ceremony, the feeling just dissipated. She was a bit of a tomboy. And the ceremony is more of a prom than a formal awards ceremony, which meant that she had to wear a dress. She started complaining and fretting about wearing a formal gown and a pair of uncomfortable heels. She even plotted an evil scheme to not attend the function. I had to laugh, I couldn't believe how obstinate she could be about the matter of dresses and skirts. I could bend my principles for the sake of relationships, but she was persistent about it. I started teasing her and said that I would willingly attend the ceremony in order to witness this one in a lifetime phenomena. The jealousy didn't appear again. What mattered at that time was that I got to see her in a dress, a rare event, just like an eclipse. 

We both encouraged each other to work harder and score higher and perform better. Maybe we are a bit like Naruto and Sasuke, but none of us turned to the dark side. We talk and understand each other, and rivalry is slithering in our midst. That's who we are.



In the end, I prayed that everything would be fine, that I would be able to let go of my desires, that my wound would be healed. The next day, I woke up with one less knot in my heart. During dinner, my parents gave the verdict: that they would support my decision. It was an unbelievable outcome. I couldn't even believe my ears. Suddenly, all those past anger and disappointment become a childish tantrum. The selfish desire became a fleeting wistful hope. I had forgotten about my insistence. At that time, nothing else mattered anymore, all that was important was that my family supported my choice. 

There is something miraculous about a prayer, and you don't need to be religious to pray. Praying is a way of putting your faith in a superior being or a natural force. If you have a wish or a desire, pray, and wish for it sincerely, and you will get what you wish for. If there is something that is making you suffer, pray about it, talk about it, think strongly about it, and you might find yourself forgetting that you even suffered at all. That's how powerful a prayer could be. 

Nodame and I

The movie adaptation of Nodame Cantabile was one of my favourite movies, especially the second part to the movie. Nodame had been studying in France for a year, aiming to perform a piano concerto with Chiaki. However, no matter how much she tried, she was no where near her goal. Until one day, when Chiaki performed a piano concerto with another pianist, Nodame decided to give up on piano. That was until Milch arrived...

I usually don't watch a movie more than twice, but I think I could keep watching this movie as many times as I could. The casts seemed to enjoy the filming, the atmosphere and mood is joyful, the jokes and humour are classics, and each actor and actresses really bring the manga characters to life. That's not all, Ueno Juri was excellent in portraying Nodame, which was what made me love the movie so much.

Nodame had been working hard in her piano, aiming to perform onstage with Chiaki. Throughout the manga, we see her overcoming one obstacle and another, from playing according to the music sheet to fully appreciating the music itself. Nodame herself is talented in piano, but that was all. No matter how much she tried, she was not qualified to perform on stage, or that there was no one there to give her the chance. She was unable to progress forward despite her efforts. Just seeing her like that just made my heart break.

I used to sympathize her, but now I feel like her. I have big dreams like her, tried hard like her, but I don't have what it takes to achieve my dreams, just like her. Having a talent and putting in tonnes of effort is never enough, there must be people who are able to appreciate your aspirations and perspiration. In the end, Nodame had Milch to give her a hug and pull her up from despair. However, reality is not as sweet as fiction. I'm in despair, I'm desperate, I feel like breaking down, so where's my Milch? He doesn't exist. And my mother was even nice enough to suggest that I pray to god. Yeah right, even if He gave me the chance, my father and she won't be giving me the plane ticket. 

I'm at breaking point now, though not at the point where I would willingly cut my wrist and bleed to death. I'm at the point of entry to the world of pessimism, after all, there's no point in chasing my dreams if it won't ever come true. I'm at the point where I would just throw away my diligence, since hard work and endeavours doesn't equate to good harvest. I'm at the point where I would be one of those living dead.

Between Teenage and Adulthood

I remembered that someone once told me that the age between 13 to 19 is known as teenage because these numbers ended with "-teen". Once a person is over 19, they stop being a teenage, and would be entering adulthood. Even before reaching 19 years of age, one would start feeling the little taste of what adulthood is like.

I'm already close to the toll between teenage and adulthood, and the way my parents treat me have became so much different from when I was in secondary school. They don't really ask much about my whereabouts (although that's because I always tell them where I am), and my mom starts giving me 10 years worth of life lessons. Besides that, my father starts delegating the job of fetching my siblings to tuition to me whenever he "is busy" and my mother would occasionally ask me to take my siblings to lunch during weekends or the holidays. Somehow, I feel like I had gain a certain amount of independence, and as a price, lost one of the links between me and my parents-dependence. 

Independence Day came right after I was able to drive on my own to college. Before that, it were my parents who fetched me back from college, along with my old classmate and some times, my college mates. It was a gruesome and tiring process, where we had to waste a lot of time just fetching my friend back home. I resented it a lot. It's a waste of time, especially when I could have return home earlier (my house is closer to college than my friend's). Another thing which made me unhappy the most is the my friends inability to be on time. She would have me worrying on the porch almost every other weekday, and there were many times when we arrived late to class. I hate it, it's a breach of my principle of punctuality, and I had break numerous times this year. I felt as if I had lost control of time. Nothing felt right. I was frustrated. After I started driving to college, I slowly managed to be in control of my time. Although driving saps quite an amount of energy out of me, I felt happy. At least my life is in my hands, not others. I won't need to wrestle time free from my friend's grasp nor cause my parents to be imprisoned in the car for an hour's journey. I think, this is what it means to enter adulthood. 

Lately, my father willingly offered to fetch me to college to attend my exams. The journey was short, but years of nostalgia just came bursting within me during that brief moment in the car. I used to sleep in the car as my parents fetched me to school. I can't do that after driving to college or risk involving myself in an accident. I used to admire the buildings, the trees, the cars, the fields from within that tiny window. I can't do that after driving to college or face the possibility of a dented car and skull. Lately, I get to do all of these things in the black Honda, the things I enjoyed most in my childhood and teenage, the things that symbolizes my parents' protection, the things that only children are entitled to enjoy.

Maybe this is a short trip down memory lane, before teenage dies and adulthood is born. I am now paying respects to those days of naivety and innocence, because soon, I would have to celebrate the days of responsibility and maturity. I am going to be a "responsible adult" soon, but the truth is, I still want to be my momma's girl.

My English's experiencing a downturn...


After reading my friend's revived blog, I realized how much my English sucks. It used to be my favourite subject. Yes, it USED TO. Now, it's my worst nightmare. Funny how something you like could bite you from the back. Anyway, English wasn't my  best subject to begin with, so there's nothing traumatic with it's results rolling downhill. No, I never find it a trauma, don't say that. I didn't even receive the shock of my life when I get 4.5 out of 15 for my essay, no I didn't.

Maybe this is fate. I was considering taking journalism in university, since I loveD (yeah, it's a past tense) writing. I think English had hit me hard on the head, because I realized that I might not be suited to be "the pursuer of truth" (a lot of course descriptions say that the curiousity to know is a must have for journalists and reporters). I wasn't even a curious kitten to begin with. Do you notice that I stopped blogging this year? That's because of English. Yes, I blame almost everything on the subject-I-don't-regret-taking. It's its fault that my English sucks, it's its fault that I am not motivated to blog anymore, it's its fault that I stopped my 3 years of desire to write a fantasy...

I don't regret taking English in AUSMAT though. I took it in the first place so that I don't regret not studying literature during SPM. If I regret taking English, it means I don' regret not taking literature. (Don't understand? Try mathematical reasoning. You learned it in SPM) I learned so many things, and realized that what I have been reading in books, magazines, newspaper articles etc are so powerful. Yeah, and thanks to English, I never watch movies the same way I used to them. And worse, I read manga slightly differently too. I would be trying to look for symbols, themes, ideas and the representation of society in movies, mangas and dramas, almost all of the time. And yet I failed to do so in exams, strange...

It it were 9 months ago, I would have glorified English here. Seeing how I blog about English now, I can see that my English is currently experiencing a downturn, in economic terms. Or maybe it's already in a trough? Are there any automatic or discretionary stabilisers that can improve this poor English performance?  


(no subject)

 Not many people know that I have a blog. Not many people read it. Most of all, not many posts in this blog are interesting. Therefore, I am safe to declare that I am a fan of Matsushita Yuya and not be called weird (like my sister did, she's mean).

I'm not going to give a brief intro about him, since his biography could be found easily through googling the know-it-all web. As for his songs, I can't comment in an unbiased manner because HIS SONGS ARE GREAT. You should listen to it via YouTube. If you like him, do buy his CD's if it's within your capability. Do not follow my footsteps, the person who resorted to downloading songs instead of buying the original single/album due to various physical barriers, monetary limitations and a father who strongly opposes online shopping. I won't blame him though, he is really cautious when it comes to spending HIS money. And my daily expenses comes from HIS wallet and bank account.

I can only hope that Matsushita Yuya worked hard to be famous, famous enough to have his album sold here. 松下優也、がんばって!!!

Now, let's return to the topic of this post: THE MOST SHOCKING THING I FOUND OUT ABOUT MATSUSHITA YUYA.

Just like all the songs that I discovered and was impressed with, his songs came from YouTube (praise the smart people from all over the world who created internet and online videos). This particular surprise too came from the same source. I was watching his live videos, to fulfil the unfulfilled dream of mine to watch my favourite singers live. If there is anything that can make possibility impossible, it would be the ocean that separates land from islands and a person's financial status. It's like a consolation prize, but that is better than brooding and fantasizing about it, isn't it? 

It seems like I have strayed too far away from the topic. The main point is that I discovered that he can actually PLAY THE PIANO. That just made me more impressed of him, since I admire/envy people who can play the piano (with my friends included). Not only can he sing and dance well, is good looking, he can play the piano too? Alright, I'm green with envy. 

I won't say that the world is unfair. I was given a chance to learn piano, but I threw that opportunity away, more like disposing it in the rubbish bin like the unworthy idea it was. One can say that this is karma, punishment, result, after effect,  what I deserve, retribution, consequence, outcome, product... I call this a tragedy, a disaster, a calamity, all because of a "no". If there is a bright side to this, it is the fact that the money that would have been used to fund my piano learning is used to fund my mom's "guzheng" learning. Which is probably cheaper, and more unique than learning the piano. Alright, my egoism is intending to take over this post. I better stop before I start to gloat about how unique it is to learn the "guzheng". Ciao!

The Memorable First Day of Class

Maybe you would wonder why this post is not "The Memorable First Day of College" but "The Memorable First Day of Class". If this post is about my first day of college, it would be about the oh-so-boring-with-too-many-information orientation. Since it was a smooth sailing orientation, there was nothing to talk about. The first day of class is DIFFERENT. It totally ruined my status as a good student and the my record of being punctual for class, which I have been keeping for 11 years of my schooling days.

I was late for my economics class due to a heavy traffic jam. It was unexpected. Although I woke up early and departed 30 minutes before class started, I was still late. The traffic seemed smooth during the early part of our journey, until we reached a junction and that's when our hearts sank-the traffic jam. The first thing that ran across my mind was: I am going to be late.

All the time while I was in the car, only one thing crossed my mind, it was the embarrassment I would be facing later. Actually, I was feeling embarrass just by being inside the car while trapped in a congested road. My classmates would probably stare at me when I arrived later. The teacher would most likely glare at me, the latecomer. I bet they are laughing at me in their hearts. My imagination was running wild and my embarrassment welling up inside me. Even my optimism had abandon ship after seeing that there was no silver lining on the clouds. I'm definitely late for class, charging by the never ending car queue. 

The usually 20 minutes journey actually took up 45 minutes of my precious time. I climbed up to the fourth floor with the insufficient energy obtained from the tiny pau for breakfast. Nevertheless, it still took me 5 more minutes to reach it. To make matters worst, I had trouble trying to find my economics classroom (Mind you, I was not lost. I was just having trouble locating a classroom). There I was running here and there, looking high and low for the economics class until I saw a teacher in front of a notice board, posting a notice. It finally dawned on me how foolish I was, to not ask for directions but depending on the undependable signboard. To add to my foolishness, the economics classroom was just at the left of the stairs which I had ascended. 

I opened the door to the classroom, and was received by a classroom full of stares. Strangely enough, it was not as embarrassing as I thought. Maybe it was due to the fact that I had already spent my entire time in the car feeling embarrassed of myself. Besides that, I have a few priorities: (1) apologize to the teacher. (2) Locate my friend from among the heads of classmates. (3) Rush to the seat beside her and settle myself down.

The introduction to economics was more like the process of retrieving the Perdagangan knowledge that I had acquired when I was in Form 1. That knowledge was incinerated years ago. Fortunately, the ashes remained. I still had the impression that I had learned about it. Hopefully, economics would be more interesting than the business section of the newspaper.

Next was mathematics. Our lecturer briefed us on the topics that she would be teaching during the two semesters. The topics were mostly on number and algebra, calculus, linear programming and probability. Besides number and algebra, the other topics were the topics that I either dislike or am weak in. Where's function, vectors and trigonometry? Wait, they are in a Math subject of a higher level.

I had only three classes on this day, English was  the last class. We waited for a few minutes past the time when the class was supposed to start in front of the classroom, just to find out that the venue was changed. Our English teacher started by introducing her history of teaching, where she spent most of her years teaching primary school children, before she decided to teach teenagers and young adults. I guess that was why she started class with our self-introduction. Without telling us anything, she gave us a ball of ribbon (it was not exactly a ball but I could not find other words to describe it) and asked us to cut the ribbon according to the length we wanted. Some people had ribbons the length of their arms while some the length of their thumbs. After all of us had cut out our desired length of ribbon, she finally let the cat out of the bag. We were to introduce ourselves in front of the class. For every sentence, we had to twist the ribbon around our fingers once until there was none left. That was when the most interesting and funny self-introductions start. One guy said that he thinks highly of himself. A girl said, "I love my dad. (twist ribbon) I love my mom. ( twist again). I love... (twist one more time). Another guy with a particularly long ribbon twisted the ribbon a few times for each sentence he said (cheating). As for me, I counted beforehand that I had 7 sentences to say. And the content is as below:
1. Hi, my name is ___.
2. I live in ___.
3. I know people have a hard time to pronounce my name.
4. So I will spell it for you.
5. ______.
6. In case you still can't remember it, I'll tell you another way to remember it.
7. And it is _____. *raised hand gun* 

Never knew self-introduction could be so short and simple. Just my name alone could take up 6 sentences. However, it made me look like an egoistical person. At least not as egoistical as the guy who think highly of himself. Well, I do think highly of myself, rarely though.  

This day would be a fine day with a fine weather and happy emotions had not the traffic jam made my day an almost disaster. Truthfully, I even thought of playing truant for my first class but decided against it because that would have hurt my pride as a good student. This day would not have been interesting and memorable, had it not been for the late for class scene, the self-intro and the stomachache (I had decided to omit this because it was an antagonizing moment which I want to forget).  There you go Min Yien. This is the post you have been asking for. Enjoy!


All this negativity
Like electrons orbiting the nucleus
Makes us self-centered
and ignorant.

All this negativity
Like haze on a summer day
Makes us blind
and hot-headed.

All this negativity
Like a pandemic
Makes us look sick
and weak.

All this negativity
Like a wildfire
Spreads to every nook and cranny
of my dear home.


After weeks of escaping, I finally logged in to my livejournal.

During the past few months, I kept telling myself that after SPM, I would post something on my journal. That thought was what kept me sane during those stressful times of study and examinations. When SPM finally ended, I totally forgot about it. Hehe...

Luckily I was in time to save the journal before it was "zombie-fied".