Role Models

I guess I never really thought of this but, who did I pick, consciously or subconsciously, as my role model?

What makes a role model? What makes someone choose a role model? Everyone’s role model is different. And when you look closely, those who chose the same role models almost always have the same personality. In short, birds of a same feather flocking together. Same species will seek out and idolize their own species. It’s as simple as that.

It is my theory that although you may not be anything alike with your role model, something latent in you tells your subconscious that you have a potential to grow into the shape of that person; and therefore unconsciously your role model is chosen for you because you have that hidden personality in you that you want to bring to the surface.

Ahh… I wanted to write about my various role models here but when I got started on the first one I couldn’t continue anymore. How I considered that person as a role model is much too personal to be blurting it out like this and I imagine the rest would be somewhat the same like this. So I guess I’ll settle with thanking silently all those that I considered to be my role models. They made me who I am today, well, bits and pieces of them anyway.

I didn’t want to spoil the mood in the beginning, but seeing that I’ve already spoiled the mood in the above paragraph, I just wanted to say.

OMG. I’ve abandoned this blog for THREE months!

Haha.

Peace out. ^^

Presently walking in the past: Prologue

As I sort out all my things that I left lying around, physically and electronically, I realized how many things happened in the three years I have been here.

Three years ago I initially threw away my appeal plan because I was offered a course for three years. Had I appealed and won, I would have gone to another place for five years.

Looking back on how much fun I had in these three years, made me wonder, for an instant, whether I should have appealed for that five year course. If I did, then I wouldn’t have to taste the numbing ache of separation so soon.

I would have another two years to be with my friends.

But then again, if I HAD won that appeal and left for that five year course, I wouldn’t have met the bunch I’m with right now. Chances were I could have suffered for five years as a loner as I always had been, instead of gradually coming out of my shell during these three years alongside influence of the friends I made here.

The friends I’ve made here won’t be there.

Of course I have no basis to whether my life would be better or worse had I transferred, but know this, had I the chance to rewind and redo everything over, well I won’t lie, there ARE a great many things I would like to do differently, but I wouldn’t have considered appealing to transfer away from you guys.

Had I made that decision, I would never have gotten to know all of the people I have gotten to know. Sure, as with any community you exist in, there are people I like, people I didn’t like so much, and people I plain just didn’t care about.

For the people in the first two categories: Hey. I am really grateful that I got to know you guys. ^^

Like I said, many things happened through the years, and many changes happened to. Also, while I AM still the person my pre-u friends knew, at the same time, I’m not.

I think these three years of human interaction and events have made a difference to who I am and how I act.

I’ve changed. In some ways for the better, I hope.

But I’m not gonna deny that there are parts that became worse.

I’m still me.

But I wonder what I would mutate into in the next two months. ^^

Following this post would be a walk down memory lane through these three wonderful years. I just hope I remember every detail that mattered to me.

I hate (certain) human beings ==ll

Sometimes it’s not that I don’t want to keep up with the latest news, however in local papers ALL they bloody talk about is politics and show off their brainless-ness. I mean. How stupid can you get? I can’t imagine how some people can be so goddamn moronic and say something totally stupid and still think that they are saying something intelligent enough to mask their ALREADY VERY apparent idiocy.

I can’t read local news without getting pissed off at the people sitting in high places.

Am I to blame for being too liberal and open-minded, or are they just plain stupid?

Okay, condemn people who are different from you. For all I care it IS your right. But please don’t’ try to FORCE others to condemn them as well. That’s certainly out of anyone’s jurisdiction.

We can like whatever we like, whenever we like, and whenever we like.

It’s our freedom.

But then again, to you guys, freedom doesn’t mean anything. Does it? Here, everything has limits. And that applies to freedom as well.

WTH. Freedom is the ONE thing you can’t put a limit on. Or else it’s not bloody hell called freedom! It’s like saying “hey, I’m giving this to you for FREE! You are FREE to do whatever you want with it! But?? Jeng jeng jeng… you have to pay me something, and you can’t use it for blah blah purposes.”

Hell that’s a goddamn rule. RULE!

I don’t care what you think. I don’t care where this godforsaken piece of land is heading. I’m totally in favor of some natural disaster wiping the ENTIRE human race out. Leave NO survivors. But if the end of the world doesn’t come, I still want out. What? Did you think I appreciate being here so much that I would tolerate being called an outsider although I am not? Damn you. I’d rather be rightfully called an outsider some in some other place.

What I would just LOVE to see is this land being filled with ONLY people like you. Then I want to see how long it lasts. I want to see the internal disaster that will most certainly rain on you brainless idiots.

I want out.

The Edge

Have you wondered what pushes someone off the edge?

Or, WHAT was it that put that person ON that edge to begin with?

And WHY did that kind of thing have the power to put that person on the edge?

HOW did that person allow that thing to affect himself like this?

So in the end, who’s to blame for pushing the person over the edge?

The person?

Or the “THING”?

You see, when you read in the papers about someone commiting suicide, you’d think: He’s so stupid. But what you don’t think is: WHAT the heck MADE him this stupid?

Sure, you’re responsible for your own actions but doesn’t the source that triggered that action in a way to be blamed? The said source might have made him unable to live while staying true to him principles; unable to face his family, friends; driving him into an act of crazed desperation.

Humans are weak creatures. Most of them are unable to fully utilize the blessing of an intelligence they have received and often succumb in a moment of mental weakness. The only thing that differs humans from animals is their mental capacity.

So when humans take this blessing for granted, they are worse than animals. However, scientifically, humans ARE animals, so saying this statement more often than not insults the intelligence of animals so much more than they impact the former.

Suicide, or the attempt of one, in one form of the mental weakness humans all display. The one standing on the edge is often portrayed as the victim, where his mental weakness drives him to his predicament. A lesser acknowledged side of the “victim” is that he is the mastermind, preying upon the mental weakness of those around him who cares.

I say, leave these humans be. If he is the former, then he is stupid and weak enough to allow something other than himself to take over and influence his life to the extent of ending it. If he’s the latter, then, need I say more? These kinds of people need and deserve no sympathy from the general public. Realize that it is a waste of time to save them as this would only keep another donor with weak mentality in the gene pool.

We don’t need that.

There are enough stupid people in high places.

Black Wings

For birds, their wings literally represent their livelihood. And for ravens, they take humongous pride in their strong flight feathers.

So when one proud raven was broken by an accidental shot by a newbie hunter, he dragged his shattered pride of a body to the nearest shelter he could find. As it turns out, he fell near one of the bird parks.

As he hid under the shade of the foliage, he realized that the stray bullet had destroyed his feathers. As he was dwelling on his misfortune that he wouldn’t be able to fly any time soon, he realized that he was also really lucky that the bullet has not broken any of his pinion bones.

As he lay in the shadows watching the other birds in the park, he dwelled on how he used to envy them, being fed at set hours in a day, and never having to go hungry or look out for predators. He, on the other hand, had to forage for food to fend off starvation, always keeping his guard as lowering it by even just a fraction would result in death.

He watched the regular exhibited birds around him, some glad for this life of captivity for the price of flight. But there are also others, like him, who would stare into the vast skies for hours on end, dreaming, of the freedom they once had.

He should only be so lucky. After all, he would regain his wings one day. The others would never have the chance.

For that day, for his freedom, he would wait.

Wait for the day he would regain his place in the blue sky.

His wings.

His pride.

His freedom.

Inn. Footprints. Beach. Sand. Driftwood. Friends?

A guy I knew referred to himself as an inn. Where people come and go, sometimes leaving an impression, sometimes not. Sometimes leaving in a burst of anger, sometimes returning again for the hospitality of the host.

I don’t disagree.

But this description doesn’t apply to me.

See, in an inn, all of them who enter are guests. The host remembers, or at least, have records of who came and went. The host welcomes all these people and inadvertently expects more to come. He is their attentive host, and they are his important guests.

Me? I’m not as organized as an inn. I do not keep tabs of people in my life, and I certainly do not unconditionally welcome them with whatever hospitality I may possess.

No. People walking through my life are certainly not guests. Strangers. Visitors. Trespassers.

Imagine the fallen bark of a tree, lying in a sheltered, dry area of some secluded beach. As easily the wind blows bits of sand onto the piece of lumber, they fall off just as easily due to the lack of attachment.

As time goes by, the piece of wood is discovered by some birds as a suitable place to nest, and nest they do, periodically visiting during the nesting seasons. The first of friends to the wood due to their frequent visits. ^^

Then one day, development attacks the area, as how it has destroyed many others, and this block of wood, regarded as useless garbage in the face high-end construction materials such as metal and concrete, is cast into the sea.

This piece of driftwood is then at lost, thrown in a totally new environment against its will. Detesting the alien feel of the seawater lapping around it, it sinks and buries itself deep in the benthos, hoping that sand at the bottom of the sea will provide some relative familiarity if its old environment.

There were many gastropods there to meet as well, considering that benthos do not normally migrate very far. Perhaps the most notable is the hermit crab, who broadcasts his shift to a larger home every time his ego grows larger than his head.

It takes some time but finally the driftwood, used to the dampness of the ocean, resurfaces into the sun again. What it doesn’t realize that life in the pelagic zone is MUCH different than the benthic. For one, the community is more diverse. Each and every day the driftwood meets new plankton.

Sometimes they drift past, sometimes they attach themselves. These are known as barnacles. As more barnacles attract more of the same kind toward the driftwood, suddenly it realized that everything it does has an impact on the world around it. Yeah, so the impact may be small but subtly it affects everything around it, and also, itself.

The wood just drifts along as the waves usher it along and finally it was deposited in another beach during the tidal change. The migratory nesting birds from its first community finally find their long lost friend, and the driftwood discovers many other benthos similar to the ones it encountered while laying low in the benthic community.

Occasionally, it meets some of the fleeting plankton of its early driftwood days via ballast water discharge, but encounters of this kind are few, if any.

Now this piece of driftwood lies on the beach, covered in barnacles that couldn’t be removed even if it wanted to, but every now and then the rotting layers of wood gets chipped off, and with it, a barnacle. But it’s okay, because, every once in a blue moon, the high tide splashes onto it a compatible nekton larva, and it settles despite everything and grows into yet another barnacle.

Yeah. Life is good. ^^

Twisted Logic

Ever since the first time I could remember being exposed to humans, my way of thinking has ALWAYS been different from the norm. Of course there would be times when these thoughts would coincide but for most of the time, my rationality is almost always questioned.

I admit I do have a twisted mind, but if people would just stop rejecting my seemingly insane idea long enough to hear my reasons behind it, maybe they would see the logic of it. Granted, not many in their right minds would accept my rationality but I’m used to that.

But then again who’s to argue what’s right here? Why is the majority always right? If the majority decides that jumping of cliffs hurling towards their deaths – like lemmings, is right, does that mean the remaining who don’t jump off cliffs are insane? But then again, with the majority dead, the live ones would be the majority, would it not? And that would make the survivors revert to “sane” status.

Ah, the inconveniences of peer pressure. Just because I’m the only one who thinks like I do, I’m the one who’s twisted. In this world of straight thinkers, I’ve tried in recent years to iron out the twisted-ness of my thoughts to try to understand the minds of these people. And I do, to an extent. I somehow automatically see any situation in two or more angles from different perspectives. Note that these perspectives are made from straight minds. When I’m in the picture, the situation twists, I draw incorrect conclusions due to my incorrect predictions. This is not, in any way, to imply that I think creatively or critically; I just think differently, twisted-ly.

A light hearted example is that on the topic of wasting food, people would try to bring the sinners on a guilt trip by saying at each grain of rice is the hard work, sweat, and blood of farmers. I agree to this, but I feel that this example is irrelevant as these same farmers are already paid for their hard work before the harvest reaches our tables. And so, it is in my opinion that these farmers are out of the equation and should not be used to guilt innocent, but bratty idiots that waste their food. It would be better to just starve these brats into non-wastage instead of using guilt.

I understand if the world doesn’t accept my twisted logic. Twisted, yes I know, but logical nonetheless. (If only to me). But just as I do not force you to understand my way of thinking, please don’t force me to accept yours just because you think it is “the right way to think”.

To this sense I really envy Daria Morgendorffer, to be able to live in her own world her own way in that wacky world of jocks and cheerleaders she has to put up with each and every day. I suppose her landing a friend (Jane Lane) who shares the same mindset takes some edge off the isolation she’s otherwise bound to experience without. Sure, they are outcasts of an otherwise shallow society, but they are a PAIR of outcasts that can share their anti-social policies together. How’s THAT for irony, huh?

I suppose that would happen to me in the case I cease my part in my compromise to be straight. A more antisocial outcast than I am now. But the price to be paid for that breach of compromise would be dear, and, as I have slowly grown accustomed to what little social life I have, it would be lonely, I guess. *sigh*

And so, I continue to uncurl my way of thoughts for the benefit of my company at the moment and leave my twisted-ness to those who I know can handle it. If thinking straight brings me too much stress, I simply stop. Stop thinking. Shut down.

I can then unleash my twisted brain in all its glory here at some later date.

Gender Equity

A friend said the other day:

“I don’t understand why some guys want to undergo operation and become girls. Being a guy is great what.”

To which I replied, “You can’t see it that way, some girls also undergo the same thing to be guys what. Being a girl is not half bad either.”

In hopes of closing the topic. Fail.

“That’s because being a guy is really great ma!”

Then he went on commenting on how great guys are and what they could do without the inconveniences girls often have. I prefer not to go into detail.

At that moment I was at lost for words. For the love of the devil I could not think of a single thing to defend females, to think of things girls could do that guys couldn’t.

It’s an equal world today, where guys can sometimes do things that are associated with females far better than the latter, and vice versa.

The one way conversation emphasized a lot on the natural strength guys have. To which, yes, I agree. The strongest female on earth may just be a little stronger than the above average guy. But then again, that same female would be ridiculed by guys for the muscles she built in training.

As I listened to his rant, I realized again that, despite the whole gender equity thing, there are still many people who hold on to male superiority.

Also the reminder that when these people see others, the first thing that registers in their mind is “Oh, she’s a girl. Oh, he’s a guy.”

For one thing when I see a person, its gender is far, far below my train of thought. I, for some unknown reason, do not care. I may not even think, “Oh, right, he’s a guy” until someone role calls for guys to stand in front and females to stand behind or something like that. I see you, I see a human. I see an ‘it’. Period.

I admit, yes, guys are stronger. So what? That’s about the ONLY thing they have an edge over females. In terms of intellect and other things, it’s still pretty much a far fight. Things traditionally associated with either gender do not limit us now, girls can be mechanics and guys can be tailors for goddamn sakes. The limitations and boundaries are GONE, merged into an unidentifiable mess.

I can’t really argue this anymore because I will contradict myself.

I’m not saying that females are better than males or vice versa. I’m not saying I disagree, but I don’t agree either.

But what I’m really saying is that, to hell with gender differences and all that. You do not go around saying or thinking, “Hey, I’m better than you because I’m born a guy”. No. If you ARE better, it’s purely because you are a better PERSON than the other. It has NOTHING to do with your goddamn gender.

Thoughts

I realized that while i don't remember the face and name of everyone i meet (those who do know me must know by now that i remember very, very few strangers) I HAVE met many people. People - strangers, acquaintances to be exact, who've made an impact into who i am today.

In fact, everybody i know has a hand in "creating" me, so to speak. XD i do imitate people around me (saru mah, what to expect kan?), and its just a question of how much i incorporate their personalities into mine.

What brought on this was that i suddenly realized the differences of how i act when i'm in PJ and KT - depending on the current gang company. Like how while i can be a sadist in front of one, another would deem the act, erm, distasteful. ==ll

But there ARE many different people everywhere, each with different personalities. which strengthens my belief again on how we are all each different and unique, yet, its BECAUSE we are ALL different and unique, we are also all THE SAME.

And this is also why i don't really like meeting new people. Cuz they are all different and i need to remember many different things, but when I do remember them, i'd like to keep in touch with them. Reason being they've made an impact onto me (plus i DID make an effort to remember them! LOL jk).

However I keep in contact with very few people. Its not like I don't want to keep in contact with those that i lose touch with, but although i want to know more and befriend a person, the gap between us is too wide and it gets wider with every given day because there is just no way to get closer without being terribly, terribly awkward.

How can a person you're not close you impact you, you ask? Well, i don't know. But it happens to me quite often. I have a prime example of one i've met in F1 - but if i continue about this i think i would be dragging this post too long. haha.

Anyway, I'm going of the point here, i think (if i HAD any point in the first place). So the point is:

I really appreciate those of you in my life right now, and also not forgetting those who aren't but were. ^^

(ceh like giving some important thanksgiving speech only)

Just random thoughts i had while doing daily cleaning duties for my "kids" ^^

Relationship between cake, chocolates and friendship ^^

Just felt like posting something other than what I had forgotten what to write about earlier.

And no, this wasn’t what I had wanted to write. I still haven’t recalled it.

Whatever it was.

Sometimes I feel that some friendships are like cakes.

Why? I wonder if anyone thinks this way:

Cuz you see all over the surface of the cake is cream, right? No matter how you cut the cream in half divide, do whatever to set it apart in whatever way, in the end when you lump it all together you don’t see any gaps. The cream will stick itself back together.

That’s the outer layer.

But as you go deeper, into the inner layer into the actual cake itself, imagine cutting it in half. Imagine doing whatever you did to the cream and break it, set it apart.

When you put it back together…

It doesn’t meld together anymore.

Even if it was just a small crack, it will never again regain its original shape in one piece.

The pieces will stay, well, pieces.

You can try to arrange them back into order and then spread the cream thickly all over to hide the fact that the cake has been cut but while on the outside the cake looks like it’s a one piece, it breaks into pieces again when a time comes when you have to dig deeper past the cream.

On the other hand, there ARE some friendships that are like chocolates. ^^

There’s nothing on the surface, and when you break it, well it breaks. But if you grip it tightly enough, the chocolate will melt and be one piece again.

Which type of friendship are you in? XD

LOL.

Though I wonder if anyone can make any rational sense out of what I’m talking about. ^^;

I suddenly realised...

...i've never visited any of my previous schools ever since i left them.

sure, the main reason is that both of them are in a different area, different state, even, from my house.

i've never stayed in a house the same area as the school i'm going to, so needless to say my schoolmates were never my neighbors.

i've never even been to a classmate's house until f5. haha, sad, aint it. it's always somewhere outside so that we can meet up at a "titik persilangan" so that both of us don't have to travel so far. (student ma, no driving license)

maybe this atributes to why i'm awkward about going into ppl's houses? i never know what to do then. especially houses of people i know. (if dunno the people living in a house you're visiting e.g. father's business client just smile and look interested while pretending to be busy with something e.g. phone. XD)

was going through the photos posted on the group site of my primary and secondary school. dang my primary school has changed, a LOT. the field i used to be crazy in is still there tho. but the places i spent the most of my time in are... gone. in their place are freakishly new buildings that, i guess, are the pride and joy of everyone there, especially the new students.

but to me, 南强 isn't real anymore.

I used to love its antiquity, the peaceful countryside scene in the middle of the busy car-ridden concrete forest, like some sort of timeless piece undisturbed in the modern era.

of course i knew that it would change after i left. they always do. already they were in the final stages of collecting donations for a new school hall.

I did return a few years back with my mom, as she needed to find a colleague.

It changed.

far more than i expected it to.

to me, now it has lost its sense of uniqueness and blended in with the modern world. it is now the same as any other school.

南强 had few tables, and the some of the stone stools used to have cracks in them but i never said anything. if anything i thought the cracks were marks or the school's history and shouldn't be touched.

I hated a school i went to. so much that i made a fuss about everything. the teachers, the students, the rules, the facilities, EVERYTHING.

i must have been an idiot and a nuisance to my classmates, many of whom, no doubt loved their mother school as much as i loved mine.

i regret my behaviour. had i stopped being so selfish, i might have noticed good points about that school. but honestly i still resent being sent there.

It's true then, when you love something even its flaws are perfect. If you hate something even its perfection is flawed.

Anyway, the cracked stools, they're gone now. replaced by new ones.

one by one my memories of that place is disappearing. soon, it would be a totally new existence that i don't have anything in common with.

would Assunta be like that after another 10 years? remodelled into a face i do not know? Assuntarians of ten years ago has surely felt what i'm feeling now as Assunta of ten years ago is also very different from the Assunta it is now.

Will you do that to me too, Assunta? will you change again so much that my memories held by you are destroyed? Will I be the only one who will remember what happened?

I'm not opposed to change. change makes us grow, for better or worse, but it makes us grow nontheless.

However i will never say i like it. Adapting to change is difficult, especially if its a bad one. Change destroys everything you have and forces you to start anew.

Change, makes reality a memory.