Frustration

Frustration.
Word pops to mind cause I was feeling frustrated.

Frustrated I was at the state of my room - no matter how much time I spent cleaning it up, and no matter how much stuff I threw away, it is in a consistent state of mess. Frustrated I was looking at the notes I wrote, struggling to decipher my scribbles. If only I had nice handwriting.

And then I realize I can't really think of anything else frustrating, Alhamdulillah.

Deeper Conversation

"Bro, I've a friend who asked me to help her to ..."

And immediately I know where the conversation will head to for the next 15 minutes.

"She's my friend from secondary school. Likes to keep a low profile. A good person. And I'm asking you first."

In my heart, I wondered if this was how I'll be introduced to my future special someone. Funny how conversations during occasional gathering of friends slowly evolve. One asked if we've actually done calculations as to how much money is required for marriage in Singapore - the majlis, the hantaran, gifts, the ring, getting a flat, savings to renovate and furnish that flat and so on. Such high activation energy. I tried to do a quick mental sums but some values are unknown to me - like how would I know how much a ring would cost me or what's the current "market rate" for hantaran. From the couple of Facebook pictures shown to me, she does seem to fall in my definition of nice.

"Ali, you look deep in thoughts. What are you thinking about?"

I didn't know people could see me thinking.

"So how? Interested tak?"

How, he asks? I could write a hundred pages and still not know how it's supposed to be like. At the moment, I've got nothing to offer anyone except my dreams. Committing to someone - even if it's just at the introduction stage - would be a tremendous commitment to make. It's one that I'm mentally, emotionally, financially and spiritually not ready for. Not yet, and I do not know for sure when I'll be ready.

Seeing many of my friends go in and out of relationships ever since my secondary school days, I sometimes do wonder how they do it. Don't hearts get broken when the relationship fails? Do hearts really get stronger after such an episode? Gotta think of a reply fast, I reminded myself.

I smiled. "At the moment I'm not really ready yet."

But I'm honoured that I'm the first person that came to mind. You must've seen something within me that I myself could not. I hope one day I'll wake up and realize what I need to realize.

"Ah, the food's here. So tell me, how's work?" Smiles and changes the topic.

All psyched up

Every day is a test of my ability to stay optimistic. 

Sometimes I tell myself that I'm in this to learn. Bersusah-susah dahulu, bersenang-senang kemudian. Work hard early on so that later on, life becomes easier. Sometimes I tell myself that I'm doing this for my family - I've been on the receiving end for the past four years and it's my turn to give back.

And sometimes, I tell myself that I'm doing this for my imaginary kids. At the moment, I'm working 6 days a week without much complain in the hopes that my struggles will take me one step closer to seeing them.  

And the cycle repeats itself. Week 8. 

There's so many things on my mind right now ...

..and I just can't sort them out into nice paragraphs of words.

The exams are over. It was over last week. But a post was scribbled and left with the many piles of drafts coz it was deemed mundane. The numbers of Saturdays I have left with my kids are numbered. I'm probably left with one. Have yet to let them know. Am thinking how best I can say farewell. And then there's the preparation for next week's Oral Presentation. Trying to put the report into presentation slides and coming up with a 20 mins script and rehearsing seems pretty daunting. The problem with me is that internally, I break down when required to come face to face with a monster. I've yet to cultivate the ability to tell myself:

"Now son, look at me. Stop looking at too big a picture. Zoom in on one thing at a time. In your attempts to try and kill two birds with one stone, you almost always end up killing nothing at all. So please, dear boy. Focus."

Half my mind is somewhere in Mecca - thinking of the things I wanna do, wondering what it'll feel like. And there's the packing. There's also post-exams activity to look forward to - people to visit, say hello to, catch up. There's so many people I'd like to meet and thank personally for being such wonderful people in my life.

I recently attended a talk about the Malay Community. And I want to do something to help (and the brain starts to overwork itself again by looping arguments over and over again). Attending that talk made me realize that I'm not exceptionally good at anything. And when I asked myself what I wanna be exceptionally good at if given the opportunity, it's the ability to understand and appreciate the Quran. I wanna be able to know which verses are where and the reason and place and context in which the verses were revealed. And in order to do that, I need to make the Quran my companion and do lots of reading. I'd need books and references and teachers and classes.

And then there's the driving test in 2 weeks. It's 2am. Got a driving practical tomorrow morning. Slides and script at probably 30% completion. Slight headache.

So many things on my mind right now. May Allah ease me in my journey to accomplish these tasks and dreams of mine. May Allah ease you in the journey you're on.

A world without pictures

Toying around with the settings on Google Chrome resulted in me "turning off images". What this does is prevents websites from displaying images, thus reducing the loading time of webpages. In a weird way, it also makes the Net cleaner and less cluttered. It feels as though I'm walking through a wide and open and green meadow - free from distractions.

What seemed like taking a step backward begins to feel like taking a step forward. Slowly I start to realize that Facebook feels different without pictures. The absence of profile pictures allows the mind to paint the best pictures it could paint of my friends. The ever inquisitive and curious brain is no longer encouraged to take a peek at the lives of others. The mind feels freer. But I know, it's only been 10 minutes.

Death

So, the exams are over. A week's break before Industrial Orientation begins.

Just thinking about things as I hop around the Net. One thought that screams louder than the rest is the thought about death. Live like we're dying, says Kris Allen. I wanna do that. I wanna forget about exams.

I wanna do good and die the next day.

Blast from the Past #1

Because I have distanced myself from talking politics (because the exams are coming, and because I said I'll post them up here), I shall slowly try to revert back to my old reflecting self. And what better way to do that then to take a trip down memory lane.

It has been 6 years, yet the communication between us remained more or less stagnant. It's somewhat like the level of communication between me and my dad - even when I dream of my dad, it's either very little or no communication at all. Sad, but that's the story of our life. Anws, communication has always been through different means like the occasional shouting match or the long silence. Oh wells, one of us has to start growing up and I foresee that'll probably only happen when she gets married. So, I'll live with it.

6 years. Still no girlfriend. So no green light for her to have a boyfriend. She'll probably have to wait at least one more year when Im done with boring mugging, settled with a stable job with enough money to go around. Now, that'll be a very interesting time for me. The transition from romantic comedy films to reality. Kinda tired of hearing people telling me that I'm too afraid of rejections, not daring and stuffs.

Really, it's about the right time when everything in life has more or less fallen nicely into place. This is testimonial #1.

Death of Writing.... Really?

I think I'm gonna take back my words.

Without realising, I've been thinking A LOT and writing A LOT. Thinking used to be about the dream girl, distractions, bits on school and stuffs. But recently, thinking has entered the world of politics!

Talking about politics on this blog isn't really a wise idea. But I've been talking and reading and commenting about politics on Facebook. And studying a little here and there. I'm (still) unhappy that the people up there chose to put the elections right smack between NUS and NTU exams. Suspiciously fishy, but that's the scene here in Singapore.

Like the revolution in the Middle East, a change seems to be in motion here. It's moving to say the least. People around me are very much aware of the going ons, thanks to Facebook. Some are not thinking or commenting as maturely as I feel they should, but they're special and cooler that way. Which also makes me special and cooler. Yeah.

Singaporeans complain. And through complains, one need to identify the root of that complain and find a solution to it. To me, every complain is a treasure. It gives me the opportunity to analyse, identify and think of a solution. I'm really loving it - this General Election.

A small part of me thinks that an even smaller part of me would love the chance to be paid $15,000 to listen to problems, solve them and make people happy. Thus why I used to want to be a counsellor or a teacher. Perhaps, one day a politician.

The death of writing, really? Who am I kidding?

The Death of Writing

The Singapore General Election 2011.

Examinations are round the corner. Exactly 15 days.

Facebook and Tumblr are making me lose touch with my thoughts and writings. Not a good sign.

Thoughts

Sometimes,
little events,
little little things that people say,
jokingly or not,
mostly jokingly,
but you know I feel about jokingly,
that it often always mean seriously subconsciously,
blurted out unknowingly,
but obviously,
to me.

Most time,
I'm wrong. But who cares?
No one does, coz if they do,
wouldn't they have watched what they say,
or do?

Yeah,
these little things,
make me retreat into my dark little cave and hide for days, weeks;
Sighs,
7 days of not writing usually means,
no thoughts, lots of thoughts,
kept all to myself.

Things are all fine,
and happy,
and dandy,
but for how long,
can one hide behind a facade,
behind one mask,
after another mask,
after another mask,
you get the idea.

Be calm,
prayers,
give good advice,
a pure mind,
a pure heart,
but then we fall,
and hide in our caves,
ashamed,
because we find it so hard to be good,
because we question ourselves,
by asking questions like why try so hard to avoid music,
when many others are not,
coz afterall, there's nothing wrong,
right?

Frankly,
I don't know,
for music, I,
just hate it when it gets stuck in the head,
hate how it distracts me,
how not listening to music for a fair while suddenly,
made me click on one link after another,
and another,
like as though,
I'm in total control,
I'm free,
to do as I please,
but really I'm not,
coz I consistently think about the can, cannot, better not to,
and so on.

And how I miss conversations,
and talking,
and how I fear talking,
all because of the little things,
the little little things that people always say,
or do,
without,
thinking about how,
the other person might feel,
or do,
as a result of what they say,
or do.

I really do.

Thoughts,
they get pretty circular sometimes,
most times in fact,
and when they do,
that's when I know,
I'm ending.

Sometimes, I wish someone would ...

...just kill me already. I give up.

Step outside...

My writes come in an assortment of flavours. Some make me pleased with myself. Some make me wanna wear a paperbag over my head. But they are my writings nonetheless and they tell me the kind of mood I was in at the point of writing.

Writing thoughts out allows me to step outside my physical body and understand the different sides of me.

I was on the train to school this morning. As I played a staring game with the sun, I told myself that maybe, just maybe, the reason why I write so much is because it gives me the feeling that someone is looking out for me, understands me, cares for me, loves me. And that someone is me. Hence why I mentioned sthg about a paperbag. I know how self-love can be irritating for some. haha! Anws, do keep in mind that this is just a random thought as I was playing a staring game with the sun on the train on my way to school this morning, yeah?

xoxo

Maybe...

Brownian Motion

When many random thoughts collide, they get all messed up. Nothing gets written.

I'm Judgmental. Don't judge me.

4 school days have passed and I feel like a student on exchange. Most friends are having their industrial attachment so I'm pretty much on my own most of the time. Their absence however has led to an increase in communication with people whom I don't usually talk to. So perhaps, subconsciously, I'm looking for other avenues of communication. Writing's fun only when done in moderation.

I've been writing a mouthful of late coz being alone forces me into conversations with myself about things in random and we begin to deconstruct whatever or whoever that comes to mind.

Today, after one of such deconstructions, I realize how bothered I can get when people judge my sincerity - especially when I'm actually very very sincere about helping.

Out of Words. Me, really?

The more I talk to people, the less I talk to myself, the less I write.

But the more I talk to people, the more I feel as though I'm part of a larger society. Many someones out there know a tiny part of my story. Slowly, if this continues, I forsee that I might stop writing altogether.

Hmmm...

Okay. Maybe not. Maybe I'm just too excited about spending the last hours of the holidays thinking about the things I wanna do that I do not have much time left to drown in my thoughts and write. (Yeah, mainly I just think about what to do and the day's more or less over. I exaggerate.)

More to come when school starts. When I start seeing people and feeling new feelings. Old feelings. Who knows....

Out of Words

The more I talk to people, the less I talk to myself, the less I write.

The Time Traveller

Results are out and it disturbs me that top students are crying over their grades and I.... I'm just thankful I came out of it alive.

Perhaps I'm one of those guys who have small dreams. One who just wanna be in this world as though he's a traveller. Afterall, we're not gonna be in this world for long. I think about the past, wonder about the future and everything else in between and I ask myself, what's my purpose in life.

Watching The Time Traveller's Wife made life seem short. One moment ure in 1995 and the next moment, u find yourself lying on the floor with a bullet in your stomach breathing your last few breaths. So am I living life as it should be lived?

I don't know. I don't even know if I think about the right things! I wonder if people my age ask themselves the same questions that I do.

And Happy Birthday Adik. Your sacrifices will never go unnoticed. You gotta wait a little longer for that Coach or LV bag that you wanted. And in time, it's your turn to relax and my turn to support. In a year's time, insyaallah.

The Wandering Mind

The mind has been so all over the place this week that it's hard to string thoughts into words. Things feel messed up and I don't even know what or why.

Perhaps, it's coz school will resume in 7 days time. Or that results will be released tomorrow. Or the worry that I might not graduate next year. I just feel so tangled up inside.

Whatever...

Whatever happened to: "It's okay. Shit happens."

People just seem to love making others feel bad. Is it that uncool to be forgiving and understanding? Do people always have a secret agenda behind their seemingly innocent actions? Whatever happened to good old fashioned trust? It's a sad and difficult world we live in.

Let others say as they want. Whatever makes them happy. You can never please every single one. Just keep trying to please as many as you can. And hope one day, they'll please too.