— 14 Jul 2013
“As soon as you start thinking about the beginning, it’s the end”
Pacing up and down the road in the city with the undersized sweatshirt I bought recently, I realized there’s nothing more exciting than small bookstores with messy bookshelves on the side of the road. There’s bunch of them around here. Which is cool, but it might be a bad thing knowing that the books going to add extra weight to my luggage.
It was early this year when I decided to get some time off from work to go out of the country. You know, to wind down on my non-stop workaholism that has been with me since…forever. After the trip to Singapore, I decided to just buy the tickets. I clicked on the cheapest flight to Melbourne. Then I clicked on the cheapest flight back to Malaysia. 9 days in May, I counted. This is it.
I was in this specific phase when I made the decision. The phase where every time I think about work, it makes me go “Fuck this shit” in my chest. Do I hate my job? I don’t think so. Do I hate the place I’m working at? I’m not entirely sure about that. Do I hate the people around me? I have no idea as well. I just feel this lack of motivation to move forward. I remember how I was so adamantly confident that I could do better than where I am at the moment. How I want to be part of more passionate people that can actually move my thinking forward. How I hate to be the one pushing things and desperately being the nerd to do things correctly. How I want more people to take things seriously and not just fooling around all the fucking time.
I hate myself when I’m in that phase.
So, I flew down here, with no plans and no ideas what to do. That’s how I like my vacation to be anyway. Tourist-sy places doesn’t really attract me. I rather find a spot to sit down and watch people around me going through their daily life. Going to Melbourne is like going into the Tumblr world. Well, at least that’s the idea a friend had planted in my head, referring to the fancy photos of the people and the streets.
I started reading. I mean, like, really reading books, rather than just articles and technical explanations about things on the computer screen. I never thought that I would enjoy reading very much. It is true when they say every time you read, you feel like you’re in totally different world. Your imagination can go as far you you let it be. I feel the sense of emptiness – but in a good way. Empty from anything else but myself and the story. I like it that way. It helps me be free.
— 14 Apr 2013
There are hundreds of excuses that I could come out with. Excuses that can, and will, make the audience nod their heads as a way of saying that I am making sense of the situation; as a token of appreciation for letting it out – untangling the mysterious nature of making such a reckless yet immature decision. I’m sure some of them have a sense of skepticism in their heart, but it seems inappropriate to even bring it up. Who cares. It’s my show. I’m leading the plot of the story.
But excuses are for the weak. I can be proud for the ability to amuse the audience without any hesitation; freestyle at its best, but who am I kidding? Lying to them is one thing, but lying to myself is a bigger deal. Such a fool, I think of myself.
Time machine is scientifically vague. But if such device ever exist, I’ll probably be the first in line to use it. Going back in time to fix something I broke seems very appealing at the moment. Of all the things I’ve done, I couldn’t think of any other time frame that I would leap to, except that one. That particular time when I was overly possessed by my huge ego. Destroying every good things that could have happen.
What’s stopping me to fix it now? U tell me.
— 10 Mar 2013
You spent a pretty long time waiting and anticipating a certain thing. Then, it struck you that there was actually a pretty good chance it is going to happen. Your confidence went high. You thought all the waiting is finally going the worth the effort. But in the end, you fucked it up. Or you played it too safe. You acted all stupid although you knew it was not a good idea. Such a waste. Then, you tell yourself, “Hey, this is life. Maybe there’s a reason why it doesn’t work out”.
— 06 Feb 2013
The heat from the morning sun on the rooftop deck started to make me sweat. My second bowl of cereal doesn’t taste as good as the first one. Too dry. But it doesn’t matter. I wasn’t really hungry anyway. The weak ventilation system in the hostel room forced me to get up early and leave the room. I always have this issue with air-conditioned rooms. I don’t really like them. But that’s cool. I love the rooftop. I love the strangers there.
There’s a new found joy in me during the short trip. Drawing buildings and surroundings seems to be very relaxing and satisfying. The top view of Arab Street from the 5th floor of a backpacker place, the old shophouses across the Lebanese pizza place we had dinner at, another old buildings across a small cafe where we had our morning coffee, and the big airport building from our departure hall. I captured them all in my little sketchbook that I carried around.
Having the chance to open myself up to this kind of new experience is something I’m grateful for. I was never good at giving myself a break. Keeping myself busy is always the priority, but I guess I’ve decided to keep it slow this year. I want to see what’s out there, and experience them before it is too late.
I want to do more of this. I NEED to do more of this.
— 17 Jan 2013
— 04 Jan 2013
— 16 Dec 2012
This is my first attempt at doing some chalk art thing. It is not easy. I have a huge admiration towards chalk artist. Crazy talented.
— 10 Dec 2012
Everyday when I wake up, I always think that everything is going to be alright. And most days, it is true. There’s only a very slight chance that a particular event might cause a change in the nonexistent level in my mood meter. I am a positive person. And I am also a very tense person. The only thing that can cause severe mental damage to my complex and busy mind is my own self.
I am easily attached to something. To someone. And I am equally easy to feel the need to detach them from myself later on. I am easily amused, yet easily annoyed by the same very thing. I don’t give a damn what people say, but I am constantly trying to improve or change things just for the sake of fitting in. I want to fit in, but most of the time I don’t want to be seen as someone who are easily conforming to the norm of the society.
I am weird. People are weird.
— 03 Dec 2012
— 28 Nov 2012
As I waited for it to start, there’s always this fear inside of my head that it is not going to work out. The fear of losing. The fear of being judged by superior mean of today’s inferior world. The fear of rejection that can cause severe illness in my path of confidence. And it keeps on growing. As I waited.
You see, wishing for something can be very intimidating. Hope is deceiving. Love and lust is over-powering. The sense of gratitude is often forced to hide the truth in the darkness of the despairs. But how much hope can we tolerate as our passion pour down the drain of endless dissatisfaction?
Crazy. How can a heart be so fragile to believe in the nonsense stream of hopeless dreams? It is almost unbelievable how the world is allowing us to deal with such distress. On the very surface of it, everything appears impeccable. But once you dive into it, you know how hard it is to swallow the truth. The imperfections. The real taste of judgement. The real price of failure.
I concede. This world is not for everyone. This path is not for me to take. But I don’t want this little voice to rule the centre part of my brain – controlling my rational judgement on what would other people do if they’re in my shoes. The fear will haunt me, but it surely won’t stop me from moving forward, even if it means I have to change my path to an alternate life of endless hopes and dreams.