Friday, March 23, 2007


26 Oct 2006
Time: 21:16

Yeah, been like, a month since I last blogged. Holidays ended, semester begun (in fact, week 3 now, opps) and assignment deadlines are coming and going.

What changed, everybody asks.

Well, nothing.

Really! Nothing!

Just the usual. Watching from afar, knowing some things are just not mine. And this time, I even turned my back.

I was just given the links to some of the PSAs the broadcast majors in my university did, and here's some of the best (There are Groups up to O, I believe. Try watching ALL of 'em.):

Group B's PSA
Group I's PSA
Group D's PSA

Anyhoo, this is in rare support of my university, so...GO WATCH.

This semester: Moral Studies and Feature Writing.
One, I can actually afford to not give a fook about, the other, well, I just have to toughen it out. Last semester's results came out early too, and I must say I'm pretty pleasantly surprised. After the disappointment about getting a B for Mass Media and Society, I wrote off Communication Theories as a dud for an A. But I worked my ass off for it. Every concept in there, I tried to apply, to understand, to grasp. I sat in Starbucks, compensating for a semester of sleeping in lectures, scribbled on paper, closed my eyes and drew inspiration from these theorists. I draw air, I muttered words, talked to myself and basically make everyone in vicinity think they have a mad girl in their presence. I sat for that paper, and I thought, maybe, maybe a B+? I felt good about it. And it. Was. An. A. Incredible.

I already know they'll make us write features during finals. Sometimes, predictability plain sucks. We have Dr. Carmen Nge tutoring us, and I already love her, and her sarcasm.
So many lecturers come and go in UTAR, yet, ones that I really hold my respect for and will remember by are so few.
What constitute a good educator to me? Ones that comes in, explains a concept, and challenges me to think. *Snap* and enlightenment. Add a dosage of extreme sarcasm and LOVEEEE.

Dr. Carmen talked about free press and corruption. She was supposed to lecture about media law. How an idealistic picture can be, and what is the reality. The politics of this country. How every single damn media is owned by the government. We had a debate during tutorial. I guess I'm the only one enjoying that 3-hour session (because it extended to 3 hours!), but I thrived in it. I had my say. My brain felt stimulated. Challenged.


Sociology. That's my forté, not writing, not creativity. Observing and learning about people. If you've ever sat quietly somewhere and people-watched and found yourself enjoying it, you will know what I mean. Like, in a restaurant while waiting for your food, how families interact, how people eat, the way they hold their chopsticks, whether they stand up to pick their dishes. Different rituals. Exams when some people ask for 3, 4 booklets (when I myself use only half a booklet), or keep sighing and annoying his neighbour, or writing at lightning speed and still writing as the invigilator literally tug the answer booklet out of people's hands, and how some people can finish in less than an hour and jump up and bolt away from the exam hall (okay, I fall under this category too). Like in Starbucks, the way the staff interacts, who walks into the café, what they order, who they're with, why they're there, and all those people tapping away on their laptops.

I've been accused of staring by many friends, yanno? Hahah.

But eat what with sociology? Air?

Forget about it for now la. I can make this work. I know I can.

Anyway, I've just read Gianne's blog and here are some excerpts (in italics):

Sometimes I feel hopeless without a manual. I don't own an "auto pilot". God forgot to install a little life instruction book into me. Maybe you're all the newer versions while I'm a remake of a vintage prototype. Damn manual controls. Of course, each versions have their personal struggles and this is mine. So I plod along, trying to understand, trying to take in all.
Oh, we're supposed to be like this? Do it like this? I see, I see... 20 years on, I'm still confused and bewildred as I am before. Yes, I'm learning, but how slowly it is. Some things cannot be changed.

My reply is:

Actually, I feel lost most of the time. I didn't come with an auto pilot, either, telling me what to do. All these years, I have been under subtle control, binded by trust, love and fear. I feel inferior to a lot of people, feeling I can never measure up. Wondering how some people know how to do, this "auto pilot" thing where they pilot themselves to the top and you're left behind, yelling "heyyyy, wait for me! Tell me how'd you do it!" in vain. Worst, feeling like I don't even deserve to feel like this, somehow that it is ungrateful and that I have no right to feel like this.

A friend once told me that even though I'm upset, but 5 minutes later, I'd 'bounce' up again. True or false? You tell me. If it's true, then I'm very tired of picking myself off the ground and say, "it's okay, it's okay", pat the dust off my clothes and walk again smiling. Is it really okay? Perhaps I repeat those words to myself all the time, one day it will actually come true.

My reply is:

It makes me wonder, reading this paragraph. It might as well have been written by myself, only less abstract and eloquent. Must say I really admire your abstract style of writing that I'll never be able to learn to express, boo. Every single fight, every argument, I picked myself up and brush it off. I didn't keep it inside of me, but at my deepest, darkest moments, those pain always, always resurface. I scoff at the idea of seeking help, of people who fall into depression. If I can bounce back, so can they. But their pain is not mine. How can I judge. But all this accumulates. And make me into a person with little self-confidence.

But yes. I too, bounce back.

I really wish I can reach the day when I'll be perfectly happy just as I am.Stop getting angry at myself for the things I've done or the things I should had said, or had not. Because my talent as a person is lacking, all I can do is to keep becoming better, but at the moment, I feel that my efforts have not paid off. It's sad to understand that I'm like that in every other aspect of my life; I'm just inept at it. But hey, I try. Not that it sounds like a consolation to me though. Every fall hurts and bruises. My skin is thick, but I can still feel.

No one is truly happy being who they are. Self-acceptance don't come by in a magic carpet. No prince will come and sweep us off our feet and show us a whole new world. Sometimes, I wish I never existed. Sometimes, I want to disappear from this world, walk into a blackhole and just...hilang. I can't be someone's perfect daughter. I can't. I just can't. I want to make her realise, no matter what kind of person I am, I'll never do something that will embarass or break her heart. That she might never find a reason to be proud to have me as her child, but at least I will not do anything to shame her. I wish that much is enough. It never will. Acceptance is what I'm craving for. Accept me. Love me for who I am.

I feel so faulted. Like I should've been tossed into the "reject" bin at the factory and shipped to the incinerator to be destroyed. That I'm a useless piece of nothing no one has any use for.

Defected. Yes. That's the word.

And worst, worst of all, I feel I have no right to feel like this.

After we finish secondary school, then enrol in a course, and after a while, some of us may have doubts to their choice. "Is this right for me?" A barrage of worries. It's never as simple as when we were 7 year olds, and when asked what we'd like to be in the future, we'd all go in chorus, "DOCTOR! PILOT!" (or maybe like that unforgetable boy who went, "GOD!" <-- FTW!!!)

If only it's so clear cut, I'm on my way to earning an M.D. That everyone will become doctors and engineers and lawyers and pilots. If only the road is straight.

Because most of us aren't immediately supplied with talents for said course. For those who are... well, damn you! (jkjk =P) It's not unusual to feel discouraged. It's also not unusual to have wobbly skills in the beginning. That's what classes are for ;P. Even though the quote above have some truth to it, don't let it pull you down and make you give up so easily. But of course, if you hate what you're doing, feel free to leave (if your parents allow it anyway), but if you do love and enjoy it... a try is definitely worth it.

The paragraphs above is dedicated to someone. You know who you are. Besides, it's only been your first year! I think in your case, the door should be unlocked, and you're free to leave, but you don't. I wonder what does that mean =P. Learn more, explore more in your field, outside of classes.

I know 90% it's not for me, but yes, ma'am. Discouraged don't begin to describe me. Fear, feeling inept, unable to meet expectations, bored...haunting me, paralysing me. Fear of not being good enough. Not able to handle my chosen vocation.

Sometimes, I want to go back to the time, if only for an hour, just an hour, to primary school, playing games at the kawasan tertutup, in a circle, where my immediate worry is to think up of a word to say when it's my turn.

In Moulin Rouge (the movie), the premise of the movie is:
The greatest gift of all is to love, and to be loved.

Oh, how simple and complicated it is.

All, ALL we all want, is to love, and to be loved.

Faith. I need it now.

GenieOnTheLoose made this comment,
I read once, that everyone has a 'candy' on their back. We see these candies everyday; all come in different shapes, sizes, tastes... but the thing is, we cannot see our own. so we'd feel down and depressed because we often think that we do not have a candy, but it's right there, out of your eyes' range.
I see one goddamn big candy on your back, PY.

Goodness, I'm envying your writing skills, so it's kinda ironic, don't you think?

We're all defected creatures. Let's start a club. I don't seem to fit the perfect daughter mold either, but my mom has her own flaws. Took me 18 years to realise she's a human being who errs too. We can't completely satisfy our parents, no matter what.

Kahlil Gibran: Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.You may strive to be like them,but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.<-- this guy is dead for centuries, but those words still ring true.

I miss kawasan bertutup =(.

One more thing.... Yay, I got featured in your blog! Hahahaha *gets shot*

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