A silly little gripe.

I was glancing through the newspapers yesterday when I came across the report about some politician in Klang and how he is currently embroiled in contraversy. I can't remember his name and his exact designation off hand because political scandals tend to be a bit boring to me.

I kept flipping and somewhere in the 'NEWS' section of the paper was an article by this Feng Shui master who went to this fallen politician to give him some advice. This master is a regular columist in the Star and decided that the dude could use a little help. Funnily enough, the politician listened. And I thought Muslims did not believe in this kind of stuff.

Anyway, that isn't the main issue. What I found slightly disturbing is the fact that the Star printed it in the News section of the newspaper. While I'm not a particularly avid practicioner of Feng Shui, I do respect the right for people to believe in it. You can have your column and write all the books you want, I'm not going to say anything. But to put that article in a section that is meant for factual reports seems a little off to me. I see Feng Shui as a lifestyle. In this society, a little like religon. Some people believe it, some don't. I can't quite understand why the article has to be in the news section when he could have quite easily saved the story for his column.

I know its a stupid gripe. I guess I expected too much form the Star. I've been told that its tabloidish and that it isn't much of a newspaper. I guess they were right then. The Star is becoming a lifestyle magazine.

To Indonesia and back.

One week in Indonesia. Half in urban Jakarta, the other half in not so urban Samarinda. I could give you a blow by blow account of what happened, but I don't think I will. A week in Indonesia visiting my dad is by no measure a earth shattering event.

So here's the short version. Day one, shopping, sleep, shopping. Day two, pretty much the same. Repeat for day three. Day four, fly to Samarinda. Once there, drive around for a bit, visit dad's workplace, watch a bunch of movies.

Fly back to Malaysia. Yep, thats pretty much all there was to it. Not to say that it wasn't fun though.

Shangri La.

Like so many before me, I seek it,
To reverse what cannot go back,
To ask sand to defy gravity,
To flip the gears that tick and tock.

It is youthful exuberance they seek,
The supple limb, perfect sight,
The beauty that came and went,
The health that was taken for granted.

But one might ask why I should seek that,
I have reached my peak and I've never been stronger,
There is nothing to go back to,
Nothing to improve.

That which I seek is similar but not the same,
I know so little, yet I know so much,
I never took the journey, I merely arrived,
But what I need now is to take that ride.

So I seek the elixir for the lease of life,
To stop being 'wise' and to open my eyes.

State of Fear.

Good book. I'm naturally a Michael Crichton fan, and I'm probably biased. But, yes, it is a good book. Anyone who wants to read it needs only to ask.

Leave!

It was years ago when they first met,
He looked, and saw a mirror,
Though different in flesh and blood,
He saw himself in more ways than one.

The twisted smile, the unflinching gaze,
The stinging tongue ever ready,
No one was spared, not even the brother,
Both did not love, did not want to, did not need to.

As he delved, he grew closer,
He learned from this teacher, this one master,
Faith in the method was all that was asked,
In the glory that it would lead to, he would bask.

What dangers lay ahead, he couldn’t have known,
The differences between the two would soon be shown,
One had talent, the other didn’t,
One was real, the other wasn’t.

He shriveled in the light as dawn finally came,
The echoes of truth burned his soul,
The unwavering conviction quickly faltered,
Reality trumped faith as the barbed words withered.

The memories of the past now haunt his life,
The regret wakes him before the sun shines,
He pays now for what he did before,
The universe always settles the score.

So leave now and never come back,
He has no use for you anymore,
Time will cleanse, as it always does,
But the memory of what was will remain forever.

This blog is becoming redundant.

I haven't posted in quite some time. Because I didn't have anything to say. And I still don't really have anything to say really. I don't keep a blog to write about my days. I kept it to rant. But as Amran (quite brutally) pointed out, its becoming a bit too self reflective, to the point when it actually starts getting annoying.

So if I'm not going to whine about how much my life sucks or whine about how stupid some things in the world are, what good is this blog? Nothing really. It was created at a time when I still wanted a space to tell the world to eff off. I can't sat that I don't need to, but I don't want to do that anymore. Its a very expensive habit, that. There are things I wish I could say here. Things I wish I could tell someone, anyone, and not have them snort in disbelief (or yawn in complete boredom for that matter).

This blog has no more purpose. I don't think I will delete this blog though. Just doesn't feel like the right thing to do. I'm just not going to post that often.

My monologues.

The two voices in my head, arguing their heads off sound a bit like this.

Me : I'm feeling a bit depressed right now.

X : Well of course you are! Its exam week! You always become like this during exam week. Its allright. You have every right to be.

Y : Actually, you don't. There are standards to maintain, mate. And you need to make sure you maintain them.

X : Aww. C'mon man. He's having a bit of a rough patch now. Give the man a break.

Y : Rough patch or not, what needs to be done needs to be done. Priorities, my boy. Remember them.

X : What are these grades for anyway? They don't prove much now do they?

Y : Yes they do. My man here knows why he needs to work for them. He's known all his life. Its all he has done all his life. If he doesn't make it, the blame will fall squarely on him, and him alone. He can't deal with that.

X : Look here. If depression could be dealt with as easily as you think it can, then you're an idiot. The dude here is dealing with it as best he can. Its not like he's not studying at all.

Y : He isn't pushing hard enough! More needs to be done. He needs to suck it up and keep walking. He needs to move his sorry ass.

X : It happens every semester, and he's been fine all along.

Y : Well, in case you haven't noticed, this semester is a bit different.

X : He has everything under contol. No worries.

Y : Has he now? I don't think he does. I think he is compromising. He is aiming for less than he is capable of.

X : He isn't compromising. He is doing his best. You try walking in his shoes and then you'll know what its like.

Y : I am in his shoes. I'm in his head remember. I see what he sees. An all I see now is a slob who has an excuse to be lazy. And he's taking it.

X : Don't you dare say that. He's had this problem forever. None of this has anything to do with looking for an excuse of whatnot.

And the arguement continues.

The jack of all trades.

I'm not much of a jack of all trades, to be frank. To be a jack of all trades, one has to be reasonably good at everything. I cannot draw or sing to save my life (doesn't stop me from bursting into song when I'm alone in the car though) =P. Speaking of driving, I'm not much of a driver either. All the correct lines to take when turning don't really come naturally to me. I'm not cut out to be a Schumacher (although the dudes in school used to call me Siewmacher).

Problem is, I'm also a master of none. I don't really master what I'm given. Of course, one could argue the relativity of mastering something. I tend to look at the pinnacle of things to determine my level of mastery. If I'm not one of the best, then I haven't mastered it at all.

So, lets look at the things that I do. I study engineering. Have I mastered it? Hah! Hardly. And I don't think I ever will. I just don't have the single minded drive required to become a good engineering student who will graduate top of the class and move on to discover the next theorem in beam analysis. I always wish I was studying something else whenever I pick my notes up. But I know that if I were doing anything else, I'd be dying for some subjects from engineering. I look back at my biology textbooks now and wished I know more. Its the same for accounts (albeit to a lesser extent). The law facinates me, but I know that once I need to deal with the nitty gritty of law, I'd run back to my numbers.

I write too. But I'm not much of a writer. Not good enough to be published anyway. And looking at the comment count on my posts, I'd say that even when provided for free, nobody wants to read what I write. (hint hint) I don't normally have anything particularly interesting to say, and I know that people have better things to do than to read the ramblings of pupating mind.

I don't debate particularly well either. Probably becasue I don't take it as seriously as I should. So I can't really say now can I?

On another note, if there is one thing I'm trying to do now, its to not take things in absolute. It really doesn't matter if I am not the best at anything. I don't have to be. Purpose isn't defined by being at the top anymore.

Why I write.

I don't even know why I'm writing this in the first place.

Its been partially covered already in the old blog. That was a point when I wondered if writing was some form of narcissism on my part. Just becasue I can use big words and have good structure, I write, just to show the world the genius that I am. Or something along those lines. I'm not quite sure where that came from either. One of the sillier soul-searching endevours I've had, I suppose.

Now I ask again, who do I write? For some reason, writing is the first thing I think of when dealing with negative emotions. Anger, depression, sometimes sadness. They all give me this strange impulse to write. It doesn't do much in terms of dealing with the emotions. Most of the time, I'm left exactly where I was before.

It could be entirely possible that writing is just a way for me to organize my thoughts. A bit like the pensive pool that Dumbledore has, really. Too many things on my mind, so I write them down and try to sort them out. That could be true.

But then again, I sometimes find myself with nothing to write, but needing to write. Sounds a bit off, I know, but thats what I feel. I grasp for topics to write about, and end up posting some lame stuff on the blog or some little story that I will start but never really finish.

I remember this status message. "I write because I believe". I wish this were true for me. I probably used to do just that. I had a sense of righteous conviction in my writing, a sense of confidence that I was ultimately right. My writing was a challenge to prove me wrong. It had a sense of purpose.

I can't do that anymore. I realize that it makes this blog incredibly boring. That would make me boring. And yes, I know that this trend has been happening for some time now. Pensive, reflective writing just isn't very engaging now is it?

But I realize that I never did answer the question on why I write. I don't know. Maybe it needs no answer.

A little story.

Found this on the BBC. This kid is quite the businessman. Tricky little fellow. Given the right resources and opportunities, I'm pretty sure he'd make it. In business that is.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/programmes/this_world/5378688.stm