New goal

Hmmm I was deliberating whether to title this post as "I have a dream" or "A new hope", but I resisted (watching too much Big Bang Theory makes you come up with cheesy/nerdy puns I've concluded). But yeah with this year's results coming out, the subject of scholarships has been broached again by my parents. The computer science department is not without its rewards (as I've only just discovered, although it's still not as well funded as some other departments). There's a "Kiwiplan Scholarship" worth 4.5k that's rewarded each year to three students in their second-to-last year of study. For me that'll probably be next year (although I'm still doubting whether I can be mentally mature enough to jump straight into the workforce after only 3 years at uni...) and all they ask is a bare minimum GPA of 6, "excellent" verbal/written english, and enough charisma to convince them that you have problem solving skills, project management skills, interpersonal skills, keen interest and relevant experience etc. etc.

The main thing is that the recipients also receive around two and a half months of summer employment at the Kiwiplan company. They're even so reasonable as to give your two weeks of holiday upon request. And although working away the whole summer for two months+ (not being able to return home or go overseas..) it still sounds like a pretty good deal to me. As long as they do pay you and it's not one of those "voluntary work experience" internships that may look great on your CV but leaves you broke from paying accommodation costs.

I wonder how I can make myself proactive at uni next year. It's not like high school where councils are easy to get into and you do basically fat all for the whole year.. maybe AIESEC? I have to work super hard to maintain grades as well as not drop out halfway through the year like I kinda did with everything I joined this year. But why not, it's better than being a bum and wasting my time away playing facebook games and watching American/British sitcoms like I did this year (apart from Dr Who. Time watching Dr Who was time well spent)

Lol and I initially had the plan to fill my spare time next year with gym. Out of laziness I'd pick study over gym any day, cognitive exercise is so much less painful than any form of physical exertion.

Oh god I'm such a nerd.

Today

Woke up today on the right side of the bed for the first time in a long time. The sun was shining, the day was fresh, I felt so light-hearted and happy. Even though I missed my bus and had to spend ten bucks catching the airport flyer instead only to wait another fifteen minutes for the bus driver while he tinkered on his monitor and walkie-talkied his boss about how to sign into his shift, (huge breath) for some strange reason that still didn't ruin my day.

The feeling of talking to someone, gossiping and laughing after such a long drought of social interaction due to my unhealthy relationship with my bed (and occasionally cheating on it with my laptop), is amazing and so liberating. For strange some reason being back in Wellington just makes things so much more easier and straightforward. The things I was running away from last year seem silly. And for some strange, strange reason, today Wellington felt so much brighter and better than Auckland.

Plus I got my grades back! Well all but one (The one that I know I did worse in... but let's just ignore that for fear of spoiling this strange day). I got a pleasant surprise, I'm still suspecting it's a typo tbh, or, today's just a really, really good day. The results that came out only left me with one regret (because missing out on a grade by only 1% just seems much too unfair, I only needed to work that teed bit harder...), but other than that I've been so relieved and happy and carefree today, it makes me want to always feel this way.

NEXT YEAR EVERYDAY WILL BE LIKE TODAY :D FEEL HAPPY ALL THE DAYS!

Keep being happy! Go go! I can do it! Don't let things get me down, be brave, be strong and don't look back at the past, just concentrate on the future. Do it!

Lol even while typing these things already reality's sort of setting in, the blind euphoria's wearing off.

Dear Brain,

I'll deal with troubles and worries tomorrow, please please let today remain untainted, just this one little day.

Sincerely,
Heart

That's it, isn't it?

That story uncanningly reminds me of my own parents. And probably so many other parents as well. Didn't my dad come to NZ by himself with a work visa? For two years he was here by himself, working part time and studying at uni with a loan. He'd come with a group of men in similar situations, but he was one of the only ones who persisted and stayed. After two years he deemed it time for my mum and me to come. We lived off around $100 a week at that time in a small flat with second hand furniture. I wonder how I was so oblivious to these things back then. I don't even know what sort of jobs my parents had. It must have gotten better because we could afford to buy a new (second hand) car before we drove down to Wellington. Wow, and I remembered we had to stay in a hostel at the city hospital before we could find a house to rent.

I'm almost in awe at my parents. My dad especially. How could I have taken everything for granted growing up? How did my dad, in the space of 15 years, manage to build a life here for us from scratch? He had to learn a new profession, a new language, way of society, a new culture. And yet here we are now, stable, indulging in excess because we can afford it, and my parents undoubtedly both have successful jobs, my dad extremely so. He climbed to the top.

This just proves it. I've realised the whole point of all this remembering. The real world is like survival of the fittest. My dad was the fittest. He survived and built us all this.He succeeded. I have the same genes. The survival gene. The fittest gene. The success gene. He slaved and worked so, so hard for who else? For me, so I could have the opportunity to succeed as well. So I could have better opportunities, more opportunities, and be even more successful, right? So my children, my future family, and generations on, can indulge excessively in a rich and comfortable quality of living.

It makes me wonder if it's true, the fact that some people think homeless people deserve what they get. If they'd just try, perhaps they would get somewhere better in life? Is it possible? Because right now for some reason, I feel like my parents have earned the right to indulge in every single dollar they spend, no matter what it's on. They have the right to do what they want with their money - maybe their hardships aren't as pitiful or tough as those endured by people living off the streets, but they've earned this life for themselves, and I definitely believe that if you want something, then you have to work hard until you earn it and deserve it.

I've wasted a whole hour trying to analyse all these random thoughts. Panic is setting in, the fact that my parents are constantly ringing every hour definitely speaks volumes about how much they want me to do good in this next exam. Well at least now I know I'm armed with the success gene, as well as the "blood and sweat and toil" gene, so with the strongest resolve I can muster, I'm going to study this exam so hard that it's gonna beg for my mercy on friday to go easy on it as I pull out the moves (yeeah I dunno about the likelihood of that ever occuring but you gotta aim high to get somewhere...)

I've just realised something. It's selfishness isn't it? When we procrastinate, when we go out and party instead of studying, when we play games instead of doing what we're suppose to be to guanrantee a bright future, we're just being selfish. Our generation is pretty selfish and self-indulging.. everyone's guilty. What's worse is that studying and doing work isn't even a selfless act. It's not like it's all for your parents and none for you. In fact it's predominantly for yourself. But often that's not a strong enough motivator.. because think about it, you can deal with hurting yourself, but would you hurt your parents? Love is a better motivator than anything else. Than bitterness or competitiveness or ambition or redemption. If you know you have to work hard to not disappoint the ones you love, then that should be all you need. If you still can't summon the self resolve to do something for someone who was always there for you from the first time you fell over to now, then question your own morals and priorities for a second. Everyone's more than capable of achieving things they have labelled off as "unrealistic". You just have to want it for the right reasons. But that's just my take on it. I'm sure for a lot of people, their situation would be different. Still, just something to think about.

I wonder how they've been

So in the middle of my intense exam-cramming this morning, I (predictably) drifted off into a daydream, revisiting random thoughts and recollections of things gone past. I suddenly remembered a chef and his wife from the Chinese takeaway place I used to work at, people I hadn't thought of in a long, long time. It's strange to realise that those times with these people who I'd almost forgotten about was actually something I wrongly took granted for. Looking back now they were really, truly valuable and precious moments, simple and filled with warmth and care-free banter. And why? Why was I reminiscent of hours labouring under the heat of a part-time job, with a few random Chinese migrants I hardly knew? It's stranger and more surprising to realise that the answer is because I hadn't felt that carefree and happy for a long time. Which annoys me. Why can't things just be like that? Why couldn't I be as simple, the people around me be as simple? It's not like I lacked the stress and workload that I have now, back then I had two jobs as well as year 13 and pressure to do well in everything. In fact, I think that was much more work and stress compared to my situation now. Yet everything was so simple. I had to earn money so I had money to visit Auckland during the holidays. I had to earn money to support myself, to gain work experience, to feel independent, to be independent. And most importantly, I had to do well in school, join random councils and groups I didn't really want to join because I wanted a scholarship to Auckland. Bottom line was I had to work hard at everything so I could create a legitimate excuse for myself and for my parents, for choosing the "illogical" path that was Auckland. I thought everything would pay off when I could come here and free myself of the suffocating confines of Wellington; that small place; that small, stuffy, dull little city that I always took for granted.

(I'm really getting side-tracked and it's now approaching 2:46pm.. when the time hits 3pm I know my productivity is bound to decrease so I should really stop writing and get on with the study.. but I'm in one of those "have to regurgitate this over-powering and somewhat self-obsessive emotion or else I'll just continue to reflect times of the past like a fool" moods.)

The point of all this is that I wanted to properly remember Da Jun and Bin Bin, the chef and the wife. I worked with Da Jun the whole time I was at Hungry Wok, so I guess I did know him for quite a while? Must have been two and a half years at least, and coincidentally the time I started working there was when he started as well, that was when he first came to New Zealand. Actually he wasn't really a migrant, he didn't even have PR. All he had was a work visa, and I think I remember him taking a break for a few months once so he could go back to China and visit his wife. To be honest, it really surprised me that he had a wife, although it shouldn't have. He must have only seen her a couple of times, if not only once, during the first two years in NZ. It makes me think, what sort of resolve does one need to do something like that? To leave behind everything that was familiar, leave behind your wife and job and home, step into a foreign country, and work six days a week at a Chinese takeaway (because where else would take you?) because you had to earn money? He told me in one of those engaging conversations we used to have, that what he earned now, although merely a takeaway job, was so much more than the a lot of the RMB wages people earn back in China.

Being honest, he was quite a charismatic guy. When I first started the job I was so scared and shy and overwhelmed with everything there was to remember. I can't remember when we first started talking - a bit after I came out of my shell perhaps? - but when we did start talking, it was the most amusing conversations, I can't even remember half the stuff, they were just interesting. And his wife, when he told us that she was going to visit for a few months and come live with him here in NZ, oh the anticipation of meeting her was thick in the air alright. She was lovely, really hard working, sensible, strong and reminded me of one of my younger relatives from China. I don't know why I liked them so much, I just did. I felt really happy for them at first, it must have been a really long time coming, that reunion. But nothing's ever so easy right? She had to work on below minimum pay at the takeaway because, how else does someone who didn't know english find a job? Because she couldn't stay at home everyday doing nothing while her husband works 6 days a week right? I remember trying to help her find an english class, like the ones my grandma goes to. But none of the classes take people with no PR. She shouted me some sushi for helping her on that trip, but thinking back now I wonder why I even let her. That must have been worth around two hours of work for her at that time at least, it should be me shouting her.

I'm kinda sad that after I left Hungry Wok near the end of the year for exams and for uni, I never said goodbye properly. Bin Bin went up to Palmerston North towards the end to stay with some of Da Jun's friends, and that was the last I saw of her. I was so naive back then, thinking I could introduce her to the Chinese girls I worked with at Bubble tea so she could make some friends apart from Da Jun's. She seemed so much more mature than them though. The manager at bubble tea was a post-grad accountant student at Vic uni, they were the same age, but she was the sort to shop everyday, have so many pairs of shoes her boyfriend complains, and snack indulgently on the rich cakes and desserts we used to sell. I'm not sure if Bin Bin was that type of girl back in China, but it was just so hard to imagine her indulging in excess like that. Although, I wish she could've instead of the hardship.

Da Jun left work before I left for Auckland. I didn't see him leave, just came to the shop one day after school to say hi and found a new chef where he used to be. Apparently he'd gone to palmy as well. I wonder how they're doing now? Maybe if I visit palmy one of these days, they'll be working at some place there? Or maybe they've gone back to China. We talked about the right time to have a kid once, and it was agreed upon that the time was ripe for the both of them and they had to get a move on with getting Bin Bin pregnant.

What's truly important

So I've come to realise why life feels so aimless and dull and dreary. It's not motivation I lack (well actually it kinda is but it sounds better to say it this way), more like a lack of something to motivate me. I need a challenge. Not only that, I need fierce competition. Having embraced the calm of lying in bed unable to sleep and letting deep and transcending thoughts attack my mind (well, not calmly and not embraced), I've realised that shockingly, I can't remember when was the last time I actually set a goal and fulfilled it. I mean there were certainly high points in my life this year when I did achieve something semi-noteworthy in contrast to the drone of everything else, but it didn't come about as me setting myself a target and doing whatever it takes until I reached it.

To think I used to cry over a Merit in English or that I'd gained 0.5kg. My past self is almost laughable when I think about it that way. The conclusion to all this however, is that I've realised that I can't be satisfied living day after day devoid of the need to prove myself. I need to need to prove myself (WORDCEPTION; wait not really). I need competition to overcome so I can prove myself. Oh, won't you come out and play darling little rivals of mine? Maybe I should be like Monica and learn how to compete with myself. But I'd most likely lose to my past self, so that's no fun at all.

When I think of the unfairness so many things gone past, people who've wrongly assumed the worst of me, accused me of things I didn't do, recognition that I should've been received for blood and sweat and hardwork but instead went to people who were simply lucky and blundered on into the prize, most of all, the injustice of so many things still going on in the world; if somehow I was given a voice, then I can speak out? Then something can be done to make those close-minded, ignorant people see, to see why they are so wrong, why their vision is so narrow that it hardly permits then to see anything but what they want to see.

Something I've also noticed is how this blog has progressively become more self-centered and "woe-is-me". I don't like it, although I'm not sure if I can help it. There are days when my mood is so dark, my outlook so grey that it seems like I have to write it all down, pour out the venomous black liquid filling me with bitter resentment or else be at risk of imploding/exploding/becoming a black hole of gloom. Maybe if I manage to work this self-improvement thing and succeed in my goal (note the goal setting; I'm beginning to improve already!), maybe it'll inspire me to write about other things, more important things than myself (haha). The need to make this blog arose because I needed to publish something really badly; that first entry was a message I wanted to convey to as many people as possible: and I still do. If you haven't read it and you're reading this, read it please.

http://bittersweeted.blogspot.com/2010/10/look-at-us-all-living-little.html

I know I've changed a lot from the person who wrote that. It's so hard to not be superficial and not become absorbed into the over-indulging, materialistic lifestyle around us. It's very, very hard to keep a grasp on that feeling of transcendence when you realise the world has much bigger fish to fry than your little woes and joys, and likewise you, should have bigger fish to worry about than your own silly little goldfish dilemmas. When I lose my grasp on that mind set (okay, to be honest it's been out of reach for awhile; playing hard to get), I read back on what I wrote last year and the undeniable emotions of sadness and disgust at our superficial come back to me for a that brief moment. It's still there. I just have to sort out myself first before I can fully grasp it and show the world what's really important.

A great man's words

“Being the richest man in the cemetery doesn't matter to me … Going to bed at night saying we’ve done something wonderful… that’s what matters to me.”

“Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.”

“Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

~ Steve Jobs

Whether you think he is a great man, whether you think he's corrupt or greedy or someone who's got the blood and pain and sweat of millions of workers out there, whether you like Apple or loathe Apple, admire his work or hate his work, you cannot deny that regardless of what sort of man Steve Jobs might have been, he still accomplished many, many great things in the life that he was given. It could have been great and wonderful or great and terrible, but it was great. Even if such technology and innovation, such addiction and distraction becomes the ruin of man, it would be at the hands of only one man; one great man; and it would be this man.

His inspiration is for all of us to have done something wonderful for the world. Something that has at least changed the lives of a small group of people for the better. I recently watched the film Ballet Shoes. Three orphans, all abandoned by their parents at birth become sisters, and they vowel to put their names into the history books, to achieve greatness, to have the names which are uniquely theirs engraved into the history of humanity.

Our lives are at stake every second of everyday. The ultimate threat of death is always there, we always have something to lose. Take the leap. Make the jump. Take a risk if you think it could take you somewhere wonderful, and perhaps one day make the world just that little bit more wonderful too.

For some reason

For some reason these days I feel like I can't be bothered to do anything.

(Which sounds really bad. And it is. I'm not really talking about just school work either. By this time throughout the year I've sort of had the time to deduct that nothing I take right now can be so hard for me to master that I'll actually struggle intensely. So I've slipped into a sort of over-confident mindset (always a warning sign), skipping class and skimming texts until the week or few days before an assessment when I know I have to study.)

I feel like I'm just so tired of my life, everything, day after day, it's all so monotonous. I can't take it.

The worst thing is I've recently fallen into a state where I just can't be bothered interacting with people. It's just too much effort, really it is. When I bump into someone and stop to say hi which consequently leads into a conversation about uni and life, all I'm thinking is that really right now I'd much rather be in my little shoe box room by myself, curled up in my bed watching doctor who and eating instant noodles. But then I get tired of that too, being alone and eating noodles. (I ran out of doctor who to watch) It's just that it's become like an instinct to stop trying to be social at all. I'm too tired. Thinking back to the beginning of the year when I tried so much, chatted to people in lectures and tutorials, at lunch, at my hall.. now it's just too tiring. It's not my natural instinct to talk. I prefer the silence. To think instead. I've always been used to doing things by myself, because I grew up doing almost everything by myself. I remember when I was little, at first it was a weird notion to ask someone to go on an errand with me, to go toilet, to go to the office, when I could do it perfectly well by myself. That used to be my mindset.

But then high school and things change you. Going to camp, suddenly meeting such an onslaught of new people, faces, you start to evolve and blend in with the status quo. And even though I still feel like I'd rather be alone instead of trying to talk to people, I can't, no matter how hard I try, revert back to the mindset that it's okay to be alone instead of trying to talk to people. So now when I have lunch by myself, I feel lonely. When I'm eating instant noodles by myself in my shoebox room and I can hear the laughter of people downstairs in the dining hall, I feel lonely. When I fall asleep at night listening to my neighbour and his girlfriend laughing hysterically and (for some really strange reason; haven't been able to work out why) doing monkey impersonations, I feel so, so lonely.

I wish I was still that little girl who could wake up in the middle of the night from a bad dream and run into the next room to sleep with my grandma.

I wish I was still that little girl who was perfectly content with spending a glorious day in a little corner of the library, reading to her heart's content and, when the sun starts setting, start walking home in the fresh evening air, licking a 50c ice cream from maccas (because I had 50c and I was old enough to buy one without parental guidance).

(I also wish that right now I had more than 99c in my bank account so I can go downstairs and buy a pie/melona from city star.)

I never thought I'd say this but I even miss high school sometimes now, which is really, really strange because by the end of year 13 I really hated it. Maybe I just miss those days spent in the design room with permission to skip all my classes so I could finish a brief on time. I definitely kind of miss that last hectic week of art painting; the whole class sprawled over every inch of ground and corridor in the art block, painting, painting, gluing, drawing, sticking smoothing.. a year's sweat and pain accumulating to those final few hours of marathon painting.

(Is that why I miss high school; art? Because with art and design I could always challenge myself to do better, create better? Yes, there were no boundaries to what was good enough, you could never be good enough, always better. But with programming and logic and maths, all there is is right or wrong. All you need to do is learn it and do it. No need for brainstorming, inspiration, hours of designing concepts, thumbnail sketches and fiddling with every single little detail because you know it all matters, every last layer, every last stroke.)

Hang on; I just remembered (yes I'd forgot..) what else I miss so much about high school is English. Scholarship English on thursday afternoons, Mr. Edgecombe digging up some short story or novel from the literary canon, and while analysing the first passage of the text our conversation would somehow wander and get swept away by a controversial debate. I remember thinking at that time; "This is what I enjoy and I want to be able to talk to people like this in the future, have discussions like this, philosophical musings and analysing hidden meanings simply talk about deep things that make you do a double take and go, wow, that was deep". Guess that didn't exactly work out :|

I don't even know what I'm trying to say, just all these random emotions and thoughts floating around in my head when I still can't fall asleep at 3 in the morning.

I think the reason for all this is that I don't feel like there's any point to get up every morning. There's nothing to look forward to anymore. Life is dull, life is lonely, and life is full of boring, unchallenging and mundane tasks to do that presents itself to me with no great interest. Basically, life is go to uni (feel hungry), class, eat, procrastinate, (study maybe), home, doctor who, (occasional midnight snack), (deduce that it's time to vacuum/laundry/clean up), sleep, and repeat till I want to bang my head against the wall in monotony.

This is a really long entry.

But anyways, I've just finished watching doctor who behind-the-scenes on youtube, concluded that 99c is not enough to buy anything from city star apart from a lollipop, deduced that yes, I really need to vacuum and wash my clothes soon (note: cash out one dollar coins next time at city star) and yes, I need think to think about sleeping sometime within the next hour.

I SHOULD HAVE BEEN BORN NOCTURNAL TRULY I SHOULD HAVE. THE NIGHT IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND FRESH AND DARK AND MYSTERIOUS AND AT TIMES SCARY AND WILD BUT AT TIMES SO SERENE AND STAR LIT THAT IT MAKES YOUR HEART ACHE THAT YOU CAN'T JUST JUMP OUT THE WINDOW AND FLY, SOAR THROUGH THE COOL NIGHT BREEZE AND LOOK AT THE SEMI-RESTING CITY WITH ALL ITS LIGHTS AND GLITTER AND PATCHES OF SECLUSION.

THAT WAS A VERY LONG SENTENCE.

I DON'T WANT TO SLEEP.

:(

PS. I FORGOT HOW TO TURN OFF CAPS OH NOES IT'S STUCK... FIVE-EVER (DATS MOOOOAR DEN 4EVA)

How to succeed in everything

So inspired by this post from Cindy's blog:

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[following excerpt adapted from 'The Genius in All of Us' by David Shenk]

Deliberate practice

Deliberate practice involves repeated attempts to reach beyond one's current level.

Deliberate practice goes far beyond the simple idea of hard work.

For deliberate practice to work, the demands have to be serious and sustained.

Simply playing lots of chess or soccer or golf is not enough. Simply taking lessons from a wonderful teacher is not enough. Simply wanting it badly enough is not enough.

Deliberate practice requires a mind-set of never, ever, being satisfied with your current ability.

It requires a self-critique, a pathological restlessness, a passion to aim consistently just beyond one’s capability so that daily disappointment and failure is actually desired, and a never-ending resolve to dust oneself off and try again and again and again.

It also requires enormous, life-altering amounts of time – a daily grinding commitment to becoming better.

In the long term, the results can be highly satisfying. But in the short-term, from day to day and month to month, there’s nothing particularly fun about the process or the substantial sacrifices involved.

We do not – and cannot – know our own limits unless and until we push ourselves to them. Finding one’s true natural limit in any field takes many years and many thousand hours of intense pursuit.

What are your limits?

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There is no such thing as failure. Only success that hasn't been pursuited. And it'd do us all some good to remember that. If you want something then work for it. No, really work for it. Go above and beyond what's necessary, what's expected. Only then will you always be at your best. We've all only got one life to live (unless you're a Time Lord rofl). Why waste days of it being someone who's only a fraction of what you could be?

That feeling

That feeling of revelation and liberation that you get. You know? Like an epiphany but not really, because what has dawned on you is something that you've always known all along really. It's like you've been living life in a murky marshland swathed in fog and mud and other thick, dirty substances. They just ooze around your life lazily, trying to contaminate you with their nasty little tentacles. Corrupt you. But that feeling of liberation when for one brief second you see everything so clearly, as if the fog has lifted off the marsh and clear sunlight finally shines upon it and you realise it's not a marsh at all, but a beautiful lake of mysterious depths and clear intentions and a wondrous sense of rightness. That feeling is what I'm trying to describe.

Maybe that's why I like going gym so much now, because sometimes after you wipe off the sweat of all that pain and endurance gone past, it's as if life has been put into a new light. Your brain suddenly wants an audience with you. It takes everything that's tedious or troublesome or unwanted in your life, and it presents a solution. It was something you knew all along. You knew that was the solution. But you forced it into the far reaches of the brain, dismissing it. But now the brain dug it out, laid out the evidence, it need not even argue the case, the case had already been won, because it speaks the truth.

And the most important part of this feeling of liberation, is your own acceptance of it. Of what you need to do. Because it was so simple, why wouldn't you do it before? Your brain is now telling you in a tiny but righteous voice, life could be so easy and effortless and wonderful, if you only do what needs to be done in the way that it needs to be done, and voila. So wonderful a time life will present to you.

One can only hope that somehow, this feeling can be grasped and taken hold of for longer periods of time. Maybe there's some sort of magic that can keep the fog at bay. How to stop such contaminative tentacles of laziness, of greed and of the ever growing lure of the material world, so souless and meaningless? They wrap themselves around everyone. It's like a giant shadow engulfing each of us, a black oozing aura; disgustingly obese with sins. But we don't see it. We embrace. We feed and and love it and grow it.

But how do we stop it?

How?

?

Grandma

不久前我爸把这首歌EMAIL给我。

每一次听完了眼泪就会不停的流。

觉得好想家

好想姥姥

好对不起她跟去世的奶奶

好心痛，心酸

觉得自己真的很残忍

长大了以后， 成人了以后， 却抛弃了从小到大对我不离不弃的人

真的对不起

这个不孝的孙女没有好好回报你的善心

这个小孙女

真的谢谢你

Treasures from the past

I was rummaging through my old files and folders from ages ago, and uncovered an old folder of stories.

Reading some of them scared me a little to be honest. Most of them were from when I was 13, and now, as a supposedly mature and independent 19 year-old who's working her way to a university degree (and upon graduation, a job), I feel not only overwhelmed by the passion of my 13 year-old self but also of my lost ambition; of my unwavering conviction of who I was and what I was going to do with my life. I didn't let what other people think deter what I thought. There was so much bravado in my writing. So much melodrama and over emphasise and cliches, yet it's sad to say that I had so much more rhythm in my writing compared to now.

Read more »

Revelation

"A resolution which surprised herself brought her into the fields this week for the first time in many months. After wearing and wasting her palpitating heart with every engine of regret that lonely inexperience could devise, common sense had illumined her. She felt that she would do well to be useful again - to taste anew sweet independence at any price. The past was past; whatever it had been was no more at hand. Whatever its consequences, time would close over them; they would all in a few years be as if they had never been, and she herself grassed down and forgotten. Meanwhile the trees were just as green as before; the birds sang and the sun shone as clearly now as ever. The familiar surroundings had not darkened because of her grief, nor sickened because of her pain."

-- Tess, Tess of the D'Urbevilles (Thomas Hardy)

~~~


"It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live"

NOTE TO SELF

I am such a freaking retard.

Next time I do something as dumb as this again, please follow the following procedure:

Step one: Stop hating myself
Step two: Stop wallowing in my loss
Step three: Repeatedly smack my head against the desk until I lose consciousness
Step four: Ideally lose all memory of doing said stupid thing and proceed to start again on work as if the last four hours hadn't happened

Step five: NEVER DO SOMETHING DUMB LIKE THIS EVER AGAIN

A guitar song

Sitting by myself in the window seat at subway. A melancholic guitar melody strums from the radio and drifts to people walking hurriedly outside. I wonder if they hear it? The song seems to seep through me. I feel like I'm transcending the monotonous landscape of my dull surroundings and one of those people outside must have pressed play on a secret brain controlling remote while walking past. A ridiculous musical montage begins attacking my thoughts. I'm given no peace and quiet to wallow in solitude. I'm forced instead to relive ridiculously happy memories of us as the guitar strums on, suddenly so annoying and crisp and cheery.I feel like I'm in an Asian music video where the girl dwells in guilt of her rage at some hot boyfriend figure and then proceeds to reminense in a cliched flash back of their most heart warming moments; stitched together into a neat little montage by a soulful and tender voice humming over the light strum of a few shy guitar notes.

This is really ridiculous...the subway lady must have put something in my meatballs.

Bring back the old days?

So I found myself still awake during the early hours of the morning again today, reading page after page after page of a delicious Harry Potter fanfiction I just couldn't put down. Snuggled up in my big warm bed with layers of smothering cotton duvet piled around me like a giant hug, listening to the pattering rain outside my window, reading line after giggling line of dramione, I really felt so warm and content and safe that it makes me want to dive right back into my duvets again even thought it's 4pm in the afternoon.

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White flag

I won't go down with this ship
I won't hold my head up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love and always will be

Will I go down with this ship?
Will I hold my head up and surrender?
Will there be my white flag above your door
I'm in love

Always will be

Hold on to your sanity

Lately I've realised that deep down, everyone's really screwed in the head in some way. Inside every single person lies a pool of insecurities they hide from the world. But the thing is, some people deal with it fine right?

There are some people who are like these strong fearless beasts, able to hold their head up high and proudly stalk through a sea of onlookers without even so much as blinking an eye over what other people might think of them.

But then, there are also those people who only pretend to act fearless, pretend to hold their head up and not care about such things when really deep down, it's slowly gnawing away at their conscience and sanity and eating them up. It takes away their confidence. Happiness. Reason.

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One day

One day, I will finish all my assignments early, like I always wanted to.

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Pride

Pride is a deadly sin.

Being proud is not something to be proud of.

Have you ever had that feeling of guilt washing over you like a huge, kick-ass tidal wave as you literally watch someone start drowning in pain right in front of your eyes? Whether it's just a small thing that's upsetting them, or whether you know you're hurting them by not helping, the guilt that hits you is almost as deadly as the damage you've caused.

What goes around comes around right?

The thing that stops people from helping, from showing their concern and their weakness, from being the one to back out of a fight first and forfeit their dignity, is pride.

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Don't wanna close my eyes

I don't wanna close my eyes,
I don't wanna fall asleep cos I'll miss you babe,
And I don't wanna miss at thing

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I MISS DESIGN

I MISS IT I MISS IT I MISS IT

Today as I was doing these ridiculous maths questions in the first chapter of my $200 dollar maths text book that I'd bought for a one-semester-long maths paper, I thought to myself: "Why am I doing this?" Why? I never liked maths, never will, and it's definitely impossible for me to even begin to like the boring and unsatisfying multi-choice maths questions I have to do for this course.

WHY AM I NOT DOING DESGIN?

Sigh. Because this is the practical and successful and foolproof pathway through life. Comp sci will guarantee a good, relatively high paying job upon graduation. It requires me to take out no student loan as the three-year-degree fits nicely inside my three-year-scholarship. Upon graduation I work, I earn money, I do whatever the hell I want, get life experience, save up, travel, explore, live... then BAM I'm rich and happy and still in my ripe early 20s.

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Night-time; insomnia; hungry; so hungry

It's 1:37am in the morning. Why am I still up? :( I did basically zilch study for MATHS108 today. Got another 3 hour lab tomorrow morning. Need to shower. Need to decide what to wear. Need to do MATHS108...

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Home

So I recently moved away from home to another city for university. I had been waiting for this change to happen for over a year. Waiting and yearning for it, for some sort of change and escape from the dull, monotonous and suffocating life I'd lived back home. I convinced myself to hate repetition, routine, familiarity, and instead to embrace change, excitement and unpredictability.

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Tell me reader

Tell me reader,

Who are you right now?
In the eyes of others- both those who hate and those who love you, and in the eyes of yourself: Who are you? What are you?

If you can answer that reader, then tell me some more:

Can you truly remember what sort of person you were when you were a child?
What you wanted, who you were close to?
Can you remember how and when you changed to the person you are now?

Tell me again reader,

What is it like living your life? Are you happy? Sad? Angry? Content but feel like you're missing something truly amazing? Depressed but feel like it can surely get better?

Or have you lost all hope, like Luke Skywalker.

Now tell me one last thing reader, the last thing I want to know.

We are currently in the future of your past, you are the adult of that child.

Who could you have been in this future, and now, who will you be from this point on?

Timeline of Asian life

I think most asian kids out there living in a western country can relate when I say that our parents always pushed us to be extra-ordinary. Never just part of the crowd, another average joe. We had to excel, and dominate, be the glittering diamond amidst a pile of dull stones. Look at all the asians around you. How do you describe them? Hardout, that's how.

This is mostly stereotypical I guess, but it's also very true. The life-line (life timeline) of a stereotypical banana asian till adulthood is as follows:

...

1.5 years BB (before birth) Asian parents perilously escape their mother land and arrive on foreign dirt. They find a cheap dingy flat to live in while making little income from part time jobs that require little english.

9 months BB Eventually they gained enough money and experience to open up a little fish and chip/chinese takeaway shop. This will become the family business. Thus with a stable and steady income, they decide to conceive a child.

1.5 years AB (after birth) The asian kid is now one and a half years old. At this rate the parents are frantically teaching him/her as much english as possible, while at the same time still exposing him/her to his/her mother tongue. The child is expected to speak soon, thus indicating s/he is ready to be taught valuable asian skills such as english, playing the violin and badminton.

5 years AB The asian kid is sent to school and lessons for some form of musical instrument begin, usually either a) the violin or b) the piano.

7 years AB The asian kid is now exposed to some form of asian sport they can excel at in the future such as a) badminton, b) table tennis, c) basketball, d) Kungfu/Taekwondo/Karate or e) (very very rarely) swimming/football/other 'white' sport that asians usually fail at.

12 years AB At this age the parents will start to monitor the grades. A close eye is kept out for English (this must never fall too low in order for the child to attain a good job in this foreign country), Maths (looking for any signs of mathematical genius as this has a high occurrence rate amongst asians), Science (looking for signs of possible doctor/engineer material) and lastly Music/art (In the case where all other grades are crap, this may be exempted if the asian kid appears to be a musical or artistic prodigy)

16 years AB The asian kid is expected to have accomplished at least some notable achievements thus far in any field. Eg. Won a piano competition, received first place medals for chosen sport, had his/her artwork displayed in a prominent location of the school with a special mention, came in the country's top 2% for a mathematics/science competition, or the parents' favourite, received grades that were top in his/her year at least once, if not for several years consecutively.

18 years AB The asian kid must now get into a very respectable and good university. They must have also chosen their profession. The criteria for an asian profession are as follows:

1. It must sound respectable, prestigious and difficult to learn/master.
2. It must be high-paying.
3. In the case where it is not high-paying, provided it sounds difficult and prestigious enough and possibly also have the chance of fame and glory, it may be exempt from criteria #2. Eg. Concert pianist, artist, designer, youtube celebrity.

(However if after a period of 5-10 years the asian kid still has produced no national/international fame or satisfactory money, this profession can no longer be classified as a successful asian profession and instead will be downgraded to simply a failure.)

N/B: In the case where the asian kid fails to produce a satisfactory career path for themselves, all hope is not lost. They are still able to be given a final opportunity by taking over the family business, getting married, and producing a grandchild (preferably a boy, and preferably more than one in case the eldest becomes a failure). This grandchild will then be raised well and be expected to succeed where the original asian kid failed.

...

So next time you meet a young asian, whatever country you may be in, give them a pat on the back and a sincere "good luck". Cos now you know, they'll need it. Fosho.

How do I STOP BEING SO LAZY

How.

How.

HOW.

HOW???

UGH.

Ragequit.