On (not) Feeling Content with Isolation

Those adorable bunch of people - adorables. Really. Interacting with them, somehow, reminds me that there are a lot of things out there. Big things. Bigger things. A lot of people. A lot more of people. Absolutely much more that the things I have here. 

This thought, this very concept, is exactly the thing I simply can't afford to forget, among other things, such as to feel bored when I'm running in circle, or when I'm stuck in one place for far too long.

I am a traveler, for God's sake. Of all things, I musn't forget to move, to walk and to live on.

On Light

At times like this I couldn't help but to think, that I really to scream at those people. Oh yes, I really do. Those who tempted me with promises of reliability and company, those ones that opened the locks. Where are those friends when you actually need them?

Busy with their own things, surely. Everyone got their own set of problems and issues. Their circles of misfortunes, their swirling thoughts and their mood swings. The rain outside their windows. The mountain of tasks. The aliens under their beds. The holes in their walls. The dirt under their shoes.

Don't be too involved. You're kind, but kindness can bind you. said one of my more practical seniors, a few years back. Times and times again I want to prove her wrong. I want to show her that I need not to pick up the mask of apathy. Alas, things can still go wrong, I am far from being infallible and the world isn't that forgiving after all.

The little hope is flickering, but still I don't want it to die. If anything else fails to be reliable, I would fill that gap myself. Light that fire.

Nothing much I can do - not with the painful reminder of distance staring right into my eyes. Nothing, except to offer my sincere prayers and wishes. For them to pass these ordeals and recover quickly.  Nothing much, except to stay alright. Fight the internal battles to fight. Run around, practice the crafts, trade blows when they are due. Do what must be done and do it well. Right the wrongs. One thing at a time.

Ultimately, I want to be that person that stays. The one that they could actually find and talk to should they ever wish to. The one that they can leave alone and still be as alright as a well forged blade. The one that doesn't run away. The one who accepts. The one who forgives, even when the world around her doesn't revolve around the concept of forgiveness and warmth.

The world can just anyhow be gloom and dark, because it is in the night when candles shine the brightest. I won't be alone - because those people who I mentioned before, they are good people. They will return when the time is right. We will meet beyond these sand dunes and I'll have tons of stories to tell them.

This is what I talk about when I talk about believing in others. I got a powerful Lord telling me not to be afraid anyway.

And so, this is my answer. Your move.

On Being a 4 out of 10

My biggest weakness, as a pilot, is that I'm not very good at flying aeroplanes... I mean, I'm good enough, like the sims said, I'm, adequate, adequate to the task. But I don't do it easily. It's not second nature to me. On your scale of 1 to 10, if 1 is the bare minimum of competence, I'm..about a four. And I used to be a 1, no, I used to be a zero. And I took my CPL again, and again, and then I was a 1, then a 2 then a 3 now a 4. And I'm not finished yet, and that's why you should employ me, that's why you'd be lucky to employ me. Because if you're not naturally good at it, if you can't rely on just knowing how to do it like Doug..like some people can, then you have to be a perfectionist actually. And I am one! And that's why even when you've turned me down, I'm gonna to keep on applying, because flying is the perfect job, and I won't settle for a life where I don't get to do it!

~ Martin Crieff - Cabin Pressure by John Finnemore 


Prolly the best quote I've ever heard on a comedy programme. Some people simply know me a bit too well to be able to plant the right resources - I can always draw something out of them in times of need. Thanks again, Partner.

Upon Awakening

"Who am I?" "Where did I come from?" "Where am I going?" I think these are the questions everyone is asking themselves constantly. I am not an exception.

I woke up from a state of dreamless restlessness to find it very peculiar, for me to be here at this very moment. My memory's almost a blur in the air. What have I been doing? I've done things I tried hard not to do before. I like my things to be simple and clean, yet there are a little too much cluttered confusion and tangled histories, pointless strifes and unnecessary facades.

Pointless. Why am I still entertaining this hideous and silly attempt of a stage play? Have I really fallen that low? It's pathetically horrible I can almost laugh at it without feeling the remorse. I blamed it on my weaknesses before, but something is still wrong. Where did I begin? How did something so precious become such a monster of an unspeakable shadow?

You, who I can trust to slap my face should I falter on my way.



There's an ideal founded by a desire to embrace everything. That I should always do these things: make my own bed, confront myself and right my wrongs. There's a sad world driven mad by fear and thrown into unrest - to what extend can I love it?

Friend! I call for your aid. Will you support me this time?

On A Great Tribute to the Royal Dance

In the end, maybe I'm indeed just a feather in the air. But I'd say the feather has been doing things during its fleeting flight. This is an unsung story.

On Performing

Three days to the showtime, so I guess it's high time to start thinking about it.

The last time I was to dance on a stage, I ended up in Tan Tock Seng Hospital's emergency unit.  Very frankly I don't know where I'll end up in this time. But just in case I manage to put my feet on the actual stage, well, I've been investing some time practicing.

Just like a band, dancers doing a collective dancing need to build a single item in synergy. Unlike a band, dancers are generally not given the privilege of having a conductor. The closest thing to it will be a collective effort of the musicians, and there's nothing much we can do except to breathe their rhythm and paint their notes in the visual dimension.

Assuming the role of a Performer is also inevitable. Whom am I performing for; the noble ruler of Tumapel, the audience (or at least part of it), those dear team mates or simply myself? The answer would most likely bear no importance to any other person, and each of our answers will most likely differ greatly.

Talking about the tricks of Performers, there's one spell one of my past conductors used to cast. During the essential few seconds before the sharp deep breath of the beginning, with his back already facing the public, he would look straight into our eyes and give his most sincere and warmest smile ever. Hidden from the public view, he'd lightly give his own left chest four silent and gentle, yet firm, taps. Tap-tap-tap-tap.

We've done everything we can in those countless rehearsals  I've yelled at all your mistakes and corrected them to your best at that time. Now leave them all behind and, yes, we enter this whole different realm. Together, now.

Tap-tap-tap-tap.

On Inspiration

Something I was curious about. Still in the mood of tracing some lines. I had thought that my admiration of the world of synergetic moves stemmed from the brief period of time I spent in the colour guard squad. But then again I remember being inspired with this thing from the year 2000

which I extracted from a VCD I practically nicked from-

-deep, long sigh-

But of course. Not that I mind (anymore). If it's anyone, it'll always be that one.

And yes, I was a K-pop star fan before it got popular. That singer's legal record was the first one I've ever bought. How I miss my old walkman.

On the Holmes with a Nokia Lumia

...which is a Microsoft Windows phone, by the way.

I've been practically preaching this on my Tumblr lately, but I'll just be a young girl and state this again here. I love the way Moffat and Gatiss interpret Mycroft Holmes. Partly, because it's not entirely dissimilar to my own. A bit subjective, I know. Sorry.

The elder Holmes has always been the most intriguing character in the original Holmes tales ever since I discovered him, more than a decade ago. The ultimate sleuth, the quiet eccentric who acknowledges the needs of all humans, including introverts, to be in others' company (Diogenes club) with an air of silent confidence that's only understood by those capable of comprehending the full extent of his abilities. The cold thinker who suppresses a lot of things for the sake of objectivity, yet he is by no means a dramatic imitation of Spock. After all, he still managed to be there whenever his bubbly little brother needed his assistance.

His character really came off as considerably solid and enigmatically engaging to my tender imagination of that time. It's kinda inspirational, and it was so impressive, more so because he's only presented in no more but a handful of lines and small chunks of rare, vague mentions of him here and there. Sir Doyle was a really good writer at that.

and so are the duo main writers of Sherlock cos they're able to cram those qualities in a single character, yet still manage to keep him in the shadow of the supposed protagonists. At least until recently, maybe, to some extent. But it's a really HARD thing to do (speaking from personal experience. I'm almost positively sure Gatiss playing the character himself also helps tremendously.) so I'm still giving a standing applause. 


Now I better not start on the masterfully done, stereotype-breaking details (normal, loving family -> cool offsprings, logical panic vs. Hollywood-level angst + recklessness, etc.) unless I want to be glued here until sunset.

On Stop Pressing the Snooze Button

Sense of security, my friend. Look, just, really look. They're not even having what you're having right now - yet you're lacking what they don't know they have still. It's not even a hard thing to acquire, theoretically. Look, friend, look. That carefree betrayal of logical pessimism, that magical - as it's illogical - gleam and glitter and everything shiny. Isn't it simply beautiful? And don't even start talking about they living in a bubble. A bubble it may be, but they are living. Living. And, my friend, seriously who knows - maybe the world is a bubble. Or maybe, your world is. You see, the way those rambling adults word it like some sunflower paintings, as if they know how to paint a-, a sunflower seed in a first place. How would you know?

Optimism, my friend, wake that hell of a dragon up for God sake!

On Getting Lost

Seriously, awesome weekend. Unreal.

The dream I had was surreal. Me being horrendously late was surreal. The convention I went to was surreal - I was lost more than I thought, met my freaking uni tutor at the artists' alley, who told me it's nice being lost then encourage me to be lost more often, and left feeling totally inspired to learn something new and get some business done. The performance was surreal - I nearly teared up at a scene which was mediocrely played, but the theme hit a little too close. The dinner invitation was surreal, totally unexpected, as well as my spur at the moment decision to pull out a fluffy gift, and the effect it entailed. The cancelled visit, another unplanned supper and the fact that I spent almost all of my call quota in exchange for some amusing banter in the middle of the night were, too.
The next day ran in a more orderly manner, relatively, at least. But some things still managed to escape predictions, still. The very welcoming church community being one thing, and a first bite of a whole birthday cake was another.

When schedules got messed up, when planned meetings were disregarded. When you had to spend more than you thought, and needed not to spend anything when you're prepared to do so. When you. unexpectedly, dissatisfied a person, be satisfied by someone else, satisfied another and be dissatisfied by others without any cause-and-effect link in between. When you walked blindly into unchartered future. When you got lost, in both familiar and unfamiliar places.

What would you find?

Open up your plans and damn, you're free.

On Poetic Reasoning of the Unreasonable

All things considered - well, all things that we know at this moment - he is indeed a sad man. A seeker, whose resources or lack thereof restrain him from even acknowledging the act of seeking.

You see, understanding other people is in itself an impossible thing to do, and having the person in enquiry playing a parody of confusion certainly doesn't help.

On not giving up

Yipee yay way, recess week!

On Stunts

With each passing day, my resolve is being traced and threaded carefully. Am I prepared to make the leap? Going out of my comfort zone is one thing - hell, I don't even know where my comfort zone is, being a nomadic individual I am - this is more like jumping from a train's roof onto a piece of rope hanging from a passing heli, all the while praying for the choppers to fly higher instead of get hit by a bird-strike.

...I watch too many action movies and stunt shows and take the combat classes a bit too seriously. They raise my adrenaline make life interesting, though.

On Investing

It is almost an annual ritual that I started doing once I turned legal. Every year, I'd splurge a bit on new things that I've never tried before, just for the heck of it. The good news is that I usually discover something good and it'll simply become a good enough investment to be called a milestone.

Two years ago it was a bottle of multi-purpose disinfectant. Last year was a tie between a bottle of honey and a pair of ear-cuffs.

For this year, I'd say a pair of bath gloves is a serious nominee...

On Empathy

That really hits the spot. A critical blow. When experienced personally, the term 'shaken up' can be literal. This I just discovered a couple of hours ago. I can't really describe it... Just as one cannot accurately explain the sensation of a mental shiver in metaphysical incidents.

I don't really want to talk about the roller coaster of emotions that has been fatiguing me, so let's just say I'm empathizing with a certain inspiring character.

He's a.... good-hearted man to boot. He may be a bit of a goon, that adorable laughing stock. His tactics in work is questionable at best, laughable in essence. But when we look past the dry humors, it's obvious that his persistance stems from his complete trust in people, a notion that's neither practical nor wise in this pragmatic and twisted world, but noble nonetheless. He damn well understands how painful it is to be alone, to be secluded, to be helpless and wrongly judged. He understands that wash of relief, that revived faith and hope when, at such time, a just person can feel that he is not alone. That's the reason behind his chosen way of pro bono life, practically. It fuels his spirit when the time comes for him to drop the whole goofy act, summon his confidence and convincing charisma and embrace the truth.

He can't stand betrayal.

He endures sorrow and puts all he got into his works, but one carelessness, one small betrayal ruins it all. His life, one that he has so carefully and painstakingly built, crumbles within days. His pride turns into his shame. And the worst part? It is a fact that he indeed makes a mistake. Despite it being a trap laid by ill-intentioned people, he is the one who walks into the pitfall and down he goes. He's fully aware that his carelessness does play a part in this. For one who holds truth and justice in high regards, denial is hardly an option. Hence the truth hits him hard. He's personally shaken up. Lost. Alone.

Nevertheless, he eventually deals with it. He keeps walking through the dim path of thorny shame and patience. He finds a new light and holds it tight, determined to right the wrong, to face the complicated truth and expose it to the open air. It is a long journey and it takes a lot of time, even longer than the duration of his past glorious days. Things change along the way, and so does he. He is wounded and scarred, but he also matures even more. Growing up is indeed a fascinating experience.

And in the end, he indeed manages to return at last.

On Courage

I don't believe in ignorance. If it takes courage to own up for things and right the wrongs, then let it grow like my potted mint by the window - immortal. (on a side note, I'm really glad I didn't plant it on the scrubs)

Hmm. Bring it. 

On Cleaning Up

I'm the type of person who can make a catastrophic mess out of my chamber when I lost sight of myself, both in a good way and the otherwise. But when I clean my room, I'd make it squeaky clean, damn near-sterile like a stereotypical type A blood down to the core. I may succeed in messing it up again one day, but I know I'll get down to make it even cleaner somehow.

I'll clean up this mess and freaking make it shiny. I'm making my bed and I'll sleep on it later like I did yesterday and the day before yesterday. I've been learning to keep it clean - (duh) - but touch my wooden floor, if I make a mess out of it again I'll just have to re-clean it again. It's all about simple housekeeping.

On Honesty and Comfort

The following thoughts are, admittedly, not purely my own. As for whether I bear the same opinion or not, well, it takes a bit of imagination, I guess. xD

On Reasons

Spent a day inside today. Thinking. Pondering. Suffering (from a full-blown muscle-ache though. don't ask). And recollecting.

"Everyone has their own little internal world - a secret garden only they can enter. Each world follows its own internal logic - individuality. And the logic of one world means nothing in another. Understanding other people isn't hard. It's Impossible."

On shifting a timeline

Ahh at last.

Maybe I've gone past lamenting my miseries and that's a good thing. When I look at my perpetually playful little dog running around the dusty house I feel challenged. She can be happy, (forever trying to hone her ninja skill to sneak into the bedroom so I can cuddle her) so why can't I?

Thanks to these four years, and to the adorables. I'm really thankful that it happened. Content. I'm glad I could realize the value of something before it's actually over in this case. Frustrated. Well, the sudden low note took me by surprise and I'm still bitter about that. But it also added bits of extra gladness for I was not alone, after all.

On another note, my batch is already planning some outings and I'm really amused. Hee hee~ It'll be fun if this could mean a real blast and now I'm looking forward for my next therapy so I can recover faster and join in the fun. Missing this would be a major stab so yeah, I'm praying hard. The accident really sets my plans back, but still my girl-friends are currently trying to make time to visit and help me reorganize my newly renovated chamber. Oh yes, my house is being renovated and it's become more foreign than ever. On the other hand, I got a chance to redesign my room. There are two sides to everything, after all. The sides are not always even, but they are there. People will be people. Loud people will be loud people. Obnoxious ones will be obnoxious. Oh dear. Oh well.

I've already accepted that I kinda have multiple timelines. When one stops, frozen, the other resumes. What is new, other than the things you could invent by yourself. We just have to keep treasuring our time, whenever, wherever and whatever.