Hope

Hope is food for the mind.

If you spare hope a few precious moments,
it can also be food for your heart.

What exactly do we hope for?
Why do we need hope?

It just dawned upon me today.

Life without hope, is like a seedling without soil. 


That was a pretty bad simile, I know.
But what can I say, you're the one reading this.
Heh. Heh.


Okay, so it might seem really obvious that living life with
hope is important for everyone. But I feel as though I am
relearning all my previous lessons. Hackneyed phrases and
teachings suddenly bring more meaning as I really understand
them now.

If you are in deep shit, and you feel as though it would never end,
would you feel better if there was light at the end of the tunnel?

Again, sorry for the crappy explanations, but I am pretty exhausted
and out of good ideas. My point is, no matter who you are, where
you come from, how old you are, there is no reason not to have hope.

Hope for a better future, perhaps.

Or perhaps hope for a better life.
Once you have hope for tomorrow, today would not seem so tiring anymore.

Anyway, Merry Christmas, and I hope everyone (including me and my loved
ones) will live their lives filled with hope.

If you have hope, happiness would not be too far behind.

At least, I hope so. :)

My Accenture Journey

Well I guess it is high time for me to blog about my life - or at least,
feed you tiny morsels of truth.

I recently participated in a case-study competition called Accenture Journey 2011.
And really, how I stumbled upon it was quite a marvel.

As I was navigating the Accenture website, hoping to apply for an internship
in this company, somehow I also submitted my details to join the competition.

Don't get me wrong, I did read about the competition. It was just that some little
voice in my told me not to join, because I assumed I would never win. I mean,
I did not know anything about consultancy, what would I have been able to contribute
anyway?

Heh.

Minutes after I closed my browser, my phone rang.

Ah, weird number, should I pick up?


Ring ring.

What the heck, pick it up you coward. 


I answered, and a man on the other side called Jack greeted me warmly. He proceeded
to explain about the competition, which really piqued my interest.

What exactly do consultants do? 


No idea dude. Shut up and listen, he's still talking. 


He explained briefly what Accenture was and what this competition was about. I decided
to take a chance and walk out of my comfort zone.

Yes, Mr Jack. I would like to participate in Accenture Journey 2011.

A few weeks later I arrived at University Malaya ( UM). And I felt as though I was ill-equipped
for the competition, as I had spent my previous weeks rushing my Final Year Projects and assignments.

Life is a juggle. 


I have to admit, I was nervous but I did not want to let it show.

But surprisingly, everyone there was friendly. And the competition was really well organized. There
were no tough stares or harsh tones. Every comment or critique was doled out in a amiable manner.

In a brief 90 minutes, my team and I ( dear Allyssa - without her I wouldn't even have known about Accenture in the first place, Max, Ian and Ming Cher) had to undergo a crash course of how a consultant's life was like. Of course, it was simplified for students.

But we had a lot of fun. Really.

And you know what? We won :)

Furies won. Hehe.

So yup, I honestly think Accenture did a good job with this competition.

The problem with other big companies is, they do not treat fresh graduates as if they matter.
That hurts our pride you know.

We might not be somebody yet, but you can be rest assured..


I will be somebody soon. 

Christmas is around the corner

Hey, Christmas is lurking around the corner.

Soaring Christmas trees appearing in shopping malls, with intricate decorations where couples and families snap photos away. Hired musicians singing and playing catchy tunes in the foyer. Youngsters spraying each other with white foam ( a substitute for snow in Malaysia) on the day itself.

Ahh.

Same old same old. 

This year, I want to spend it differently.

Never stop

If you had a gun pointed to your head, what would be your first thought?

I should've sailed around the world.

I should've gone to New Zealand. 

I should've..

I should've -- Fuck that. 

Suddenly before the trigger is pulled, your warped sense of reality is shaken. Your tilted reading

glasses are readjusted. You feel a sharp jolt of pain, and your ears are ringing with clarity.

Your greatest priorities no longer seem to be so demanding and in need of your immediate attention any longer. 

What would you think of if you were about to die?

What would I think of? 

Family, love, and friends. Unfulfilled dreams. 

Suddenly the spotless, brand new Ikea sofa in your living room doesn't seem to cry for your attention anymore. Neither is the roaring engine of your sports car.  

All you can think of, obsess about in those precious few seconds are the happy moments with your loved ones. Phone calls you should've answered, things you should've said but never did, things you should never have said but blurted out anyway. 

Well, haha, to be honest. That is what I would imagine if I had a gun pointed to my head. 

Do they know that I love them? Dad, mom, bro, sisters, you, my brothers ( from another mother - haha). 

My last regret would be to have never written enough, because that had always been my passion. And hence the title. 

Never stop - Writing.

And more importantly,

never stop - loving those you hold dear. 

Stop

After reading a couple of my earlier posts, I realized that my writings are actually pretty depressing.
I only seem to have things to say when I am sad, and nothing to say when I am happy.
That doesn't do life much justice.

Life has its smooth stretches and rough patches.
If I only focus on the rough patches, I'll probably miss the happy moments. :)

Yup.

Life is good now. Even with the stress and all.
Mm. I am happy. :)

Happiness

Happiness :)
Is when someone takes care of you when you are sick. Although it is hard to express how much warmth you feel, it just pulsates through your veins and energizes you.
:)

Staring at the phone

I don't know what to say.

I am at a loss for words.

Just go to sleep.

I am at a loss for-

Just go to sleep, damn you. 

I am at a-

I can't. 

I am-

Why? 

The bed is uncomfortable. Wriggly snakes crawling all over at the corner of my mind. The fan humming so irritating. The-

The phone won't ring. I want it to tell me I'm alright. Kill my inner demon. Tuck me into bed. But it just won't. 

Won't it? 

I'll wait then. 

Hurt

Human emotions are rather complex.

They swirl around in whorls of colors, most of the time passive calm colors, and occasionally a flashing hot orange. Sometimes even a passionate red.

What is the color of hurt then? I wonder.

It is like a mixture of all the passive and aggressive colors, because it throbs with the passionate red, and flashes with white hot anger, and aches with a comforting gloomy black.

Back and forth these colors flow, so strongly that sometimes I do not even know what it feels like.

Only that I know I feel like a little boy again.

Stupid.
Little.
Boy.


Hiding my face.
Hugging my knees.

Rocking back and forth.

Until it passes.

It will. Won't it? 


Yes, it will. As it always does. 

Confidence & arrogance

Standards. 

So boring.

Like it or not, people will always have varying levels of tolerance for different things in life.

Because in their hearts( or minds), an invisible standard has already been created. 

A line drawn. 

Which brings me to the title of my post today. 

Confidence and arrogance.

Confidence and arrogance.

Different people will separate these two boundaries by drawing the line at different points. So for some,

A little confidence = arrogance

or for others

A lot of confidence = arrogance

Perhaps I have drawn my line a little too far and have mistaken confidence for arrogance. I do not know.

Then why did I even post such a pointless post?

Lol.

I don't know either. 

Burning the midnight oil

Midnight has come and gone. The silent gears of my clock move inexorably, ticking away silently, stealing away my precious seconds. Ah.

Silence.

It is 4 am. The quiet buzz in my ear is almost deafening, punctuated only by the creaking of my table fan that serves to blow those bloody mosquitoes away.

Bloody mosquitoes. I literally mean they are bloody. haha.

This strange silence is almost comforting. Because almost everyone else is asleep, dreaming their dreams, and I am here, king perhaps only for this moment. :)

Let go

There comes a time, when the burdens of life seem to take their toll on you. Those tiny hateful bits of weight, accumulating to a point that you find it so hard to breathe.
I need room to breathe.


1,2,3... A deep breath.

I need more. 


1,2,3,4..

Fuck this isn't working. 


1,2...

If only I could just forget everything. For one second. 

I think

I think the smarter people are, the better they find ways to come up with excuses to hide their baser urges, or find justifications for the wrongs they have done. In the end, it still boils down to honesty doesn't it? Whether you are honest enough to see the monster that you are. 

I am

the little scratch on the roof of your mouth that would heal if only you could stop tonguing it, but you can't.

Being Malaysian

Ever since I was a child, I grew up identifying myself as a Chinese. Chinese. Chinese.
Although I spoke English more, I was ever so proud of being Chinese. Chinese. Chinese.
I studied in a Chinese school and learnt to speak my words in mandarin.
I grew up, and entered a Chinese secondary school. I thought I was more Chinese than ever.

I was surrounded by a bubble of people, all of the same race. Who spoke the same tongue. Who aspired towards the same things. And in a way, it felt like I belonged. Because I was Chinese. Chinese. Chinese.

Nothing wrong with being Chinese in Malaysia.

I graduated secondary. Left for national service for 2 months. And made friends with people I would have otherwise never met in my entire life. Malays, Indians, all alike.
Some friendly. Some not. Some filled with unreasonable hatred.
We're all human, are we not?
Do we not fear what is different?
Does that fear not rear its ugly head when it transform into a malignant tumor called hatred?

There will definitely be haters out there.
But now more than ever, in this modern age, there will be those who hope for peace.
And unity.

I struggled with my Bahasa. We spent time laughing at my Ah-Pek-like Bahasa.
But still, that was true laughter all the same.

So what if we spoke differently?

I have friends of different races. In so many places.

I've even had a share of Chinese friends from China. And, funny thing is, even though we spoke the same tongue, we  had trouble understanding each other.
Even more so than when I spoke my rusty Bahasa.
I wondered then, as I wonder now, are we the Chinese that our forefathers were?

We are always so afraid of being different.
That's why we hide in groups.
But try as we might, our country is heading towards a direction the no one can stop.
In cities, especially, where interaction is crucial for survival. Slowly, we stop
seeing the differences. We laugh at the same jokes, we love and hate the same movies.

There's no place like Malaysia, really.
Nowhere in the world can you eat nasi lemak in the afternoon, yumcha at the mamak stall at midnight, and on the way home, pop by an uncle's stall for some char siew pau.

This is home.
So now, in retrospect, I would like to think of myself as a Malaysian first. Yes, I am proud of being Chinese.
But I am ever so proud of being Malaysian as well.
Now that I think about it. I am Malaysian. Malaysian. Malaysian. 

What is the point of anything

Sitting alone in an air-conditioned room, with the irritating reminder of water condensed from my coke cup trickling down to my thigh, my reverie is broken.

Shit, that guy must have thought I had been staring at him.

Oh. Get over yourself dude. Nobody was staring at you. 


Reminder : Don't day dream while staring at people. Not even accidentally.

Pen in hand, and an unfinished sentence on my notebook. I avert my gaze to the kids running around aimlessly. Sometimes I think these kids have a sense of what they are doing more than we do. Their chests puffed up, walking towards the definite destination: the playground. Not so aimless after all.

Shit. I haven't done anything much. Except day dream about nothing.
Or day dreaming about day dreaming. That is inception for you.

Back to work. FYP. Life. Pressure.

It really isn't that much to swallow, you know.


So stop complaining. 

Occasionally I look up from my book, and I see people walk in and out, in and out. Buzzing around like bees, with their smiles fake, their minds anywhere but present. Couples holding hands, pretending to be happy.
Or maybe they are?

Everyone seems to be somewhere else, you know. Leading their lives, never happy. Looking ahead or reminiscing the past. Because now sucks balls.

I can't wait for this to end. 


After this, I would be happier. 


But it never is that way, is it?

I think we lie to ourselves more than ever. We constantly tell ourselves that after I get my car, my love, my family, my house and things I would be happy. And then what.

Emptiness. 


Maybe that's why we bombard ourselves with so many activities, so many needless things to flood our senses. So that we can never live our lives. Why?

Because I want to be anywhere but here.
Anytime but now. 

I haven't seen the point to anything yet.

Apart from being a puppet of this social structure, tied to the constraints imposed by the society, shackled by the obligations we chain ourselves to, who are we actually?