There is a question which bothers me every once in a while - am I living in a dream world? I know this must sound a little cliché.
Am I fooled into believing I can achieve more than I really can? Are my hopes set too high? What if everything comes crashing down? What if?
For instance - I'd really want to build a cosy little mansion in the middle of the forest, away from the world, where nothing but a path wide enough for a vehicle to pass through leads to it. And there is where I shall live, and there is where I shall die. This may sound ridiculous to some, but to me, I'll definitely do this if I can afford it. And no, I haven't been reading too many story books. In fact, the nearest book I've ever been with these days is my Contract text book.
I know this dream would probably cost millions, maybe 10. Or 20. That sounds like a lot, but that also sounds pretty achievable to me. Which brings me back to my point - am I being realistic?
Normal people we see typically aim for a stable job and to get settled down with a family. I, however, want to live a fantasy life, one that can only be achieved by acquiring wealth. Given that it has been achieved, then what? Am I going to lock myself in and rot to death? Am I going to be Buddha v2.0 and meditate to come up with some strange preaching?
The sense of achievement will probably last me a few months. I'd probably start travelling, buying things I love, do stuff I've always wanted to do. But there's going to be a limit for everything, so what do I do then? Get married? To WHO?
But then again, those are only questions which I have to answer when the fact that I'm not living a dream is proven. What are the chances, you ask me? I'd give it a 1 in 5.
Until then, I'll be seeking answers to questions on how to prove that nothing is impossible and that dreams can come true.
There is a question which bothers me every once in a while - am I living in a dream world? I know this must sound a little cliché.
Sometimes enough is enough. Why do parents blame every single thing on their kids? Or at least mine does.
If something goes missing or goes wrong, it automagically means that I somehow have something to do with it. The first question will NOT be, "Hey, have you seen this?" I will straightaway hear an unhappy tone saying, "Why are you so irresponsible?" followed by centuries of nagging.
FOR FUCK'S SAKE LAH, I WHERE GOT SO FREE GO AND TOUCH YOUR THINGS?!
Even if I successfully defend my innocence, a "you should know" nag will commence. If I should know everything then I would be GOD, wouldn't I? It's so impossible even GOD doesn't exist.
And if I defend some more, another self-pitying "oh-i'm-so-fucking-stressed-out" speech will start. YOU THINK THAT JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE STRESSED OUT, YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO EMOTIONALLY PROVOKE ME?!
So stressed out then talk about it, or try to solve your problem - not try to pick a quarrel with me. I have my worries too. Although they're not as serious, at least I know how to fucking CONTROL it.
This has been going on for so long I think MORE THAN HALF of my blog entries are rants about parents. I used to cry in my room when I get wrongfully blamed but not anymore. I defend myself now, and because of that, cold wars and heated debates start.
Godamnit, fuck my life.
Parents have a good way of twisting words to make everything seem like your fault.
Recently, I had a conversation with my mum, and it went like this:
Mum: The lizards in our house always come out of no where and frighten me!~ Angelina
Me: There seems to be a lot of lizards in our house.
Mum: That's because you like to sleep with the lights on at night, and insects like lights. So when you do that, the insects will fly into our house. And lizards like insects, so when you do that, lizards will come into our house and breed. That's why.
So I've done a lot for you. And what do I get? Five seconds of "wow-what-a-good-job-thank-you-very-much"? Well, that ain't enough for me. And that's not because I'm demanding. In fact, if you do a survey, I'd probably be one of the least demanding daughters in the world (extremely poor countries aside).
I don't drag you into clothing stores just because I saw a shirt I wanted. At most I would give it a longing look, sigh a little in my heart and walk on. My allowances are all spent STRICTLY on food and petrol only, even though you did not put a control on me. I drive to and from college ONLY, I don't stop by a mall, or a friend's house. I don't really go out with friends, and I don't date. I finish all my homework on time. And even though I complain a little, I still study for all my exams and - not to boast, but - I'm one of the best among my friends and the whole intake. Heck, I don't even sms/call anyone unless there is an emergency or a question I need to resolve. I have more than RM200 credit left in my phone to prove that point.
I don't even behave like other girls would - I don't go for facials, I don't buy makeup, I don't go for manicures/pedicures, I don't even paint my nails myself. I've never asked to perm my hair or go for a "rebonding" treatment. Plus, I've never went for tuition classes in my life before. Because 1) I don't need to, and 2) you wouldn't let me. My "maintenance" cost, I would say, is considerably lower than what it would have been for other children/teenagers.
I know you too have done a lot for me, and I appreciate that. I really do. But I feel as though that feeling is not mutual. Every time I give you a hug, you ask me not to disturb you. I think that you take me as a nuisance at your side, for what reason I do not know.
I feel that the only time you ever approach me is when you need help. And when I don't feel like it, you'd go on and on about how I never helped you in your work and demand a lot. And you'd tell me off for complaining. In the end, I'd end up doing your job for you. And even then, I'd do it with much care and concentration, not some quality-lacked work even though I really don't want to do it.
Speaking of demand, the only thing I asked for this year was a mobile phone. Even that was not my request - you offered to buy me one, reason being my 6-year-old phone couldn't stand a day without charging. I don't ask for new phones every year just to "keep up with the trend". I don't take my phone out and flash it to my friends to make them gape in awe. I use it for its main purpose only - phone calls and smses.
No, I'm not the kind of person who wants to live a simple village life and rear chickens. I do have things I really want, and my wishlist is long and expensive. The point is - I don't ask for them. Well, part of the reason is due to the fact that I know you wouldn't buy them for me, not even on my birthday. I might be wrong though, cause I've never tried. If I ever do, chances are my guess would be correct.
I would say that both you and I are misers. It's okay to save on money, but why are you so stingy with your gratefulness and love?
Although I've been taking piano lessons since I was five (on and off), I feel I have no real talent. In other words, I'm just another trained pianist.
Recently, I've been watching videos of people playing the piano on Youtube, later trying to play the same song. I found that when I play the piano, even with the exact same song, it always sound far worse than those I've seen on the videos. I guess my playing just doesn't have the "oomph" in it. As in emotion.
I'm emotionless. Oh noes.
Anyway, I tried to "feel" the music when I play. Bad choice. I screwed up at 384973943 parts of the song, because I'm just pure bad at multi-tasking. I couldn't concentrate on both the physical and emotional aspect of piano-playing.
I totally need a new hobby.
It's strange how dreams change, and how an I, once an aspiring scientist, switched my goals towards becoming a criminal psychologist to the current solicitor. Actually the last one was somewhat my mum's choice.
Many years ago, before the Malaysian education system ruined my ambition, my dream was to actually genetically combine traits from various animals and come out with an entirely new species.
And I suddenly lost the motivation to continue this post. I think I'm suffering from A.D.D.. I can't friggin' concentrate in class because while my lecturer is talking about the Human Rights Act, my head is in South Africa watching a "live" wildlife documentary.
Hmm, you know, I really want to go to the U.K. because I think it'll be really fun.
I also want to get a pet chicken again.
My lecturer was one of many to declare their distaste of their own country, our country, Malaysia.
My classmates told us stories of how non-Malays were humiliated in public in their National Service camp.
Many of my friends with constant outstanding results were denied scholarships from the government.
Any many, many more.
So many have voiced their opinions on the racial discrimination happening in Malaysia.
Frankly, I've heard about it, read about it, but never felt it.
And I'm a Chinese.
In fact, I LOVE all the races in Malaysia. Don't ask me why.
I get a warm, fuzzy feeling when people of other races treat me nicely.
Once, there was this Indian cleaner lady at the parking lot near my college where I parked my car. As I got down, she waved and smiled at me and greeted me a "good morning". I smiled back and returned the greetings. What's more, it was the first time we met.
Today, as I was going back, a Malay resident in my neighbourhood was just walking out of her house to her car. I gave her a tiny smile, and she returned a nice, warm one.
Oh, right! One more thing! When I was in National Service, I called out to one of my Malay trainers to ask about the schedule. She replied, "Ya, sayang?" ("Yes, dear?" in English)
I think that people of other races are really sweet to me. I really don't know how people in some places can fight because of their skin colour like there's no tomorrow.
Personally, I've never heard people insulting people of the other race. Though, I've heard of some other people's experiences.
I think that generally, most Malaysians want to live peacefully. As long as not provoked or hate-incited by the government, I think Malaysia will be a really peaceful place to live in.
So, in conclusion:
Do I dislike the current government? Yes.
Do I dislike Malaysia? No.
Do I like Malaysia enough to want to stay and contribute to the country? No, as of yet.
It's 3am. Two essays incomplete. Due tomorrow. Or, I should say, in a few hours' time.
I guess I wouldn't be able to properly concentrate on my tasks if I didn't blog this out. I think I'm going through another age transition. This is my second one, I think.
The first was about 3 or 4 years ago. The advancing to secondary school took me to a different level of life. I felt like I was a kid, but life showed otherwise. Homework required a different level of thinking, a higher level of maturity to be exact. I wasn't ready to think like an all-matured teenager. All I longed, at that stage, was to play catch with my friends and argue over which guy was cuter.
But the demands of the society were different. They wanted to see a statistic of many A's and watch you bury yourself in a mountain of books every hour of the day. The demands of home greatly differs with what we enjoy with our friends. I guess I got confused without knowing it, and thus got very depressed (dig up my previous posts, don't be shocked). I couldn't understand why I was feeling angry and sad for no reason, but I guess I do now.
I sense another transition coming, again. In fact, I think it is already happening. As much as I want to continue feeling like a carefree teenager with no worries, I couldn't.
At first, I thought college life was fun. The lecturers don't chase you with a cane for your homework. They do not even yell or scold. It is more like, "If you wanna do your homework, then that's good. If you don't, I don't really care either, it's not my results, it's not my problem."
Joo thought I'd be happy with this situation. I thought I'd love the extra freedom. But I guess I was wrong. Previously, the fate of our results is a burden of the teachers. They were the ones who carry the stress, they were the ones who worry for us. They cane, they scream, they nagged. All we need to do is complete our homework, study and grumble.
Now, they don't worry for us anymore. We have to worry about our results, we have to take the initiative to walk that extra mile, our future is now really in our hands. I hate to admit this, but, I think I'm missing school. I swore back then that I would never miss school, but I guess I was wrong.
The society in college is so different from school. They act differently, talk differently and have all sorts of attitudes, most which do not really appeal to me. This tiny taste of the outside world made me feel like I was a katak di bawah tempurung (frog in the well). I realised that there was much of life which I have not seen.
And to have all that coming to me all of a sudden (with my AS level exams four months after my first day in college), I think I'm feeling confused all over again. I really, really hope the depression wouldn't come back. Those were the worst years of my life. Or bittersweet, I would say. It is so bad that it is an unbearable bitter stage, but so good at the same time that it is extraordinarily sweet.
I really want to have "fun" in a teenager's context, but I couldn't. Because what was fun to me then, wasn't now. A few months back, I was a highly-obsessed Sims fan. Now, I couldn't even start to imagine how much time that game would strip off me. My daily-dos mostly alternate between college work and my mum's work. I wish I could literally buy time for leisure. Unfortunately, the universe doesn't work that way. If only they have personal blackholes for sale, I could bend space-time and slow things down.
Things are just moving too fast, way to fast. So fast I couldn't even grasp onto my life and hold it into position that I just feel like I'm falling apart. Falling into a high-density blackhole faster than the speed of light, where part of me falls faster than the rest; slowly, or rather, exceedingly quickly tearing me apart.
4am. Still have two essays to complete. Time doesn't wait. See what I mean?
P.S.: I just noticed, this is my 100th post. Happy 100th post to me.
I was on my way to college when I had my first car accident today. As would any other first-timers, I was terrified to the bone. My phone's credit was expired. My parents were not there to back me up. I felt like a little lamb trying to fend for itself in a wolves' lair. My first thought was - the driver would call the police, the police would come and take me, handcuffed, to the police station, I would be heavily beaten up by them, and my parents would bail me out the next day. I thought my license was going to be withheld. I worried for almost every single thing I could think of.
My mind was blank. I had no idea whatsoever of what am I supposed to do or what was going to happen.
A man in his forties came down from the black Myvi. I listened to my uneven heartbeat as he slowly walked towards my car. He was going to scream at me, I thought. I winded down my window, feeling terrified and hopeless. I began to plead with whatever words I could think of, my two shivering hands clasped together.
"I'm so, so sorry. Can you please call my father? Please forgive me, I'm just a new driver, I just got my license, I'm inexperienced. I think my brake is faulty."
I know the last excuse was pathetic, but what else could I do? The slightly balded man was silent through my impromptu "redemption". I noticed he had a small bandage over his forearm while he continued to ignore what I was saying.
He finally voiced out, "Mat yeh hou mah?" (What's number is it?)
Oh, crap. No wonder he didn't say anything. He didn't even understand my "speech"! Feeling stupid, I gave him my father's phone number. He called my father and they started having a conversation in Cantonese which I could only partly understand. Finally, he passed his phone to me. My father asked me not to be afraid, and that he will settle whatever damages with him. I think I must have looked really innocently horrified, because I overheard something in Cantonese that sounded like it meant, "She looks so afraid her face has a bad colour."
Finally, he asked me to give him some basic details like my name, IC, car number, address, etc. I apologised to him one final time before he let me off.
Night came. We (my mother, father and me) were talking about the matter over the dinner table. After what I've heard, my heart fell. Guilt surged through my veins. I felt a sharp pain in my heart. I almost broke down.
I found out that the bald man was a kidney failure patient. He was from somewhere south of Selangor and had to travel to Klang to borrow his friend's car to travel to Kuala Lumpur to carry out his weekly dialysis (blood transfusion). He had been doing this for nine years. The friend who lent him his car was a person who treasured his car a lot, but due to strong friendship and sympathy, willingly lent his car to this man, the victim.
I felt so bad. But what could I do? Even though my parents have repaid the damages, I still feel a sense of guilt, like I've done great harm to this humble and considerate man, who did not even criticise my driving, let alone scream.
The world is unfair. There are rich and evil people, and tonnes of poor and good-hearted. I will one day earn enough; enough to satisfy my wants, and to help all the people who I see are deserving. That day will come. I will make a difference, even if it's just to one person's life, I will know that I have tried.
To the victim of my unintentional carelessness, I thank you for your kindness and understanding. I know you will not see this, but at least the world will know that there are still many good people out there. I am very, very sincerely sorry about what have happened, but what is done, is done. Compensating you is the most I could do. With this, I bid you good luck in everything you do, especially if it's health-related. May you always be blessed.