“You’re jaded,” he responded.
Him and I know everything there had to be known about each other - something that comes with being close friends for an absurd amount of time. Not childhood-friends-long, but long enough. Each up and every down have been divulged to him at our sporadic catch-ups. Sporadic, because we would probably find daily company to our distaste. Sporadic, yet I feel enriched at the end of every meet.
“I don’t have the words to perfectly put it, but try imagining this,” he struggles to explain to me what he thinks I might be going through.
“Imagine there’s this tiny piece of…rock. And this is going to sound very stupid, but imagine this tiny rock. And then imagine this big one. Now everyone seems to enjoy this big rock,” he breaks into fits of laughter as soon as he realises the joke.
“You have been enjoying this big rock, along with everyone for a while now.”
Pause. Uncontrollable laughter again. Our ayam masak lemak sits half-touched on the table.
He takes a sip of sparkling water and continues, “but suddenly you see this tiny rock right next to the big one, and you find that you like it better.”
“This tiny rock has always been there, remember that. And there are a lot of tiny little pieces of rocks around the big rock and you’re slowly starting to notice them and, well, enjoy them. Take your time.”
Happy birthday to me.
Monday, May 30, 2016
Sunday, November 15, 2015
Happy birthday
Hey Luca,
Been a while, a very long while - since we've talked, and since I've updated this space (it's been more than a year? wtf). It's your birthday today, and if you are still alive (I hope you are), well, Happy Birthday, I miss you. To be honest, I have so much to say yet I couldn't think of anything to say at all. To say and to think that you would still be reading my blog wouldn't make any sense as even I have abandoned it for more than a year. It's a stretch, but perhaps, maybe, someday, you'll see this.
I don't remember exactly when you decided to vanish, but that wasn't very nice of you, to not say a single goodbye to me at all. You're always in my thoughts, regardless. Have a good one. Have many good ones. And hopefully one day we'll sit down to some Kings of Convenience or Massive Attack and talk. And talk. And never stop. You always have the better stories, anyway.
Love,
Jo.
Been a while, a very long while - since we've talked, and since I've updated this space (it's been more than a year? wtf). It's your birthday today, and if you are still alive (I hope you are), well, Happy Birthday, I miss you. To be honest, I have so much to say yet I couldn't think of anything to say at all. To say and to think that you would still be reading my blog wouldn't make any sense as even I have abandoned it for more than a year. It's a stretch, but perhaps, maybe, someday, you'll see this.
I don't remember exactly when you decided to vanish, but that wasn't very nice of you, to not say a single goodbye to me at all. You're always in my thoughts, regardless. Have a good one. Have many good ones. And hopefully one day we'll sit down to some Kings of Convenience or Massive Attack and talk. And talk. And never stop. You always have the better stories, anyway.
Love,
Jo.
Monday, July 21, 2014
Well hello
Stuck at work, 2015hrs, rereading everything that's been said and done here and doubting my current self of the capabilities I once never knew I had but only now realise in hindsight. You've come a long way, Jo. Time to start treating yourself like a damn adult. 2014 is turning out to be a tentpole year for maturity, it's not even funny anymore. Good, in a way. Stability is always a good albeit boring thing. Only problem is your reluctance in admitting it. Burning questions of "What if"s and "What for"s make their perplexing rounds every once in a while but no matter, so long as you're still ticking.
Deaths. Let's talk about it (wow, still morbid I see). No, not so much morbid as curious. Read an article about how, if you fall from immensely high altitudes, you could end up on the ground butt-naked. And obviously dead. What a way to go.
Leaps and bounds better than this slow, painful one.
-----
Edit: On a roll. 2245hrs. Still at work for no solid reason. Ironic that "words" are what's saving and at the same time killing me right now. So much power in words that we take for granted; use them wisely, kids. Fake them too if they'll make others feel better is what I've been telling the part of me who is still yearning to be a little less selfish. See what I told you regarding the tentpole? Never mind me, running on lunch here. God, I want so much to go home and reward me with some good ol' scrub down and then cuddles. Can't afford the latter however, due a multitude of reasons - lethargy and geography being the two main strains. So this is what we've arrived at, eh?
Still morbid, indeed.
-----
Edit: On a roll. 2245hrs. Still at work for no solid reason. Ironic that "words" are what's saving and at the same time killing me right now. So much power in words that we take for granted; use them wisely, kids. Fake them too if they'll make others feel better is what I've been telling the part of me who is still yearning to be a little less selfish. See what I told you regarding the tentpole? Never mind me, running on lunch here. God, I want so much to go home and reward me with some good ol' scrub down and then cuddles. Can't afford the latter however, due a multitude of reasons - lethargy and geography being the two main strains. So this is what we've arrived at, eh?
Still morbid, indeed.
Monday, December 16, 2013
Mita
My dear Mita, you have no idea what impact you have made on my life. You were one of the few people I was actually moved to be friends with; I simply had to have you in my life, when I saw you back in college. You were smart, so incredibly smart. And that smile of yours, so contagious. Your presence, soft, silent, but reassuring. And to this very day, how we managed to maintain contact is something I'm highly thankful for. I cannot understand how you - no matter how tired or busy you were - could still make yourself available to me when I'm in need of help at work. I cannot understand how we were only just in the company of each other barely two weeks ago, and now you're gone. You didn't have to leave so sudden and soon, you know? More people like me yearn to have a friend like you in their lives. Words can only do so much, for to fit my feelings into sentences is like trying to take a photograph of the colossal galaxy. I can only try my hardest to understand, that things like this just happen. And they can happen at anytime, to anyone. This time, it hit a little too close to my heart. You will be remembered, forever.
Us, 2011
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
6 Months Later...
I do not know where the urge to put out another post came from but here I am, at another work desk, typing as if my life depended on it. It's amazing, how quite a number of things have occurred and didn't in the past 6 months since the last post. How has it been? Mediocre, according to a perspective; quite thrilling, according to Perspective Two.
Perspective One insists that there could have been more substance, more...magic.
"Productivity, you mean," said Perspective Two. "Which you did achieve, to some level. You put out two songs - one went viral, released a music video, played a handful of shows, and you quit your job then took on Cambodia. Celebrated your birthday, got back on radio for 4 weeks, chilled out for 3 months and threw all cares to the winds. I'd say that was quite something. Now, you're two months back in on a desk job and you don't really have much to complain about. So, shut up, One!"
"But a lot of bigger things could have taken place! You were so, very lazy," said Perspective One, always careful, sensible, dissatisfied.
Perspectives, arguing it all out, all the time. Some fights can be rather entertaining, particularly as the numbers grow. I remember playing witness to the time when Perspectives Two, Six, and Seven had a go at each other...what an interesting day that was.
I never meant for this post to go in this warped out direction about the perspectives but that's the thing about freewriting, you just let your mind lead your fingers where it wants to go. Sort of like how someone charges up to you as you were having a cup of coffee and exclaims in your face, "You have to listen to this! Hand me your phone, let me search it for you. I believe this can really inspire you!"
And he didn't even know me, really, really know me. Flattering, in a way. Sometimes it feels good to just let things happen on their own accord. We all know, deep down inside that most things naturally fall into and out of place by themselves and for some of these instances, it's nice.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Bibelot
And again we shall attempt to churn out a post out of boredom. Senseless ennui, as I always like to call it.
Today gripped me in confusing ways. I am calm, despite the blow that was the 23rd of January, yet I am bored. The earphones are starting to feel like they're a part of my head, and the sounds that come from them, though not as good as what good speakers are capable of, are not moving me at all. I know not anymore what is a good song and what is not, not with these earphones. A dissolution from over-saturation. Try doing what I've been doing at this table for the past 3 months and you'll probably end up here too.
Hello. Was the journey as sluggish and dreary as mine?
Oh, writing. Drama. Exaggeration without an intention to do so nor knowing why we do so. Of course none of it really matters. In fact, matters like this post on this blog do not matter at all, for I am my one and only audience. Yet I put this out. Why?
Because it is more convenient to type and erase and add and subtract. And seeing that I can't have anything close to a proper conversation these days due to the absence of mortal company/ beating-heart presence, the urge for any form of closure has to be appeased and made manifest here. Please note that I now admit to possible incoherence in my sentences.
Foreseen, a particular natural query that others are apt to question upon arrival at such posts - precarious, dangerous, personal, quite inappropriate, and redundant. Why? Regardless of subjective opinions put forth by varying individuals, I personally think that the only justification to my behaviour is aided by my certain propensity to the idea of this outward spewing of nonverbals - whether it is making sense, substantial, and agreeable, or not - to the vast unknown of viable knowns and unknowns. Doing so builds and even accentuates an unmistakable yet discreet sense of inner, unvoiced satisfaction and fulfillment of detachment. Not very unlike allowing the masses to read up on your memoir. Again, I'd like to emphasize that although varying (subjective) opinions/judgments are freely formed and stubbornly stood by, it is, however, profoundly recommended that said opinions and the like be set aside prior to engagement of action (reading).
And yeah, because you want it out in the open instead of stashed in one of the many notebooks you've bought in your muddled past, and ultimately forgotten in the dust of time, right? There I go again, writing. Drama. Exaggerated drama in writing. Where's that moleskine that's still devoid of content, anyway? Remind me to go home and find it. But do we have time?
Time has lately been cruelly divided into portions uneven and ridiculous for me. I spend a total of up to 4 hours sitting in a crawl on a highway amongst other people sitting in the same crawl on the same highway, every day. And in between that, I sit on a chair at a table with little to no work to do, every day. Then, I am left with the final few hours of the weekdays for things I need more time to do but the productivity in these final few hours will never be fully harnessed, not after dealing with all the demotivation from the stagnant, major prior portion of time spent sitting down not being able to do anything else unless it is work-related. See how it is all so unfair?
Stop.
Look up and around. Inhale with your eyes the fluorescent lights that fill up the space around you and then close them, your eyes. Now open. It's 4.30PM. You have one more hour. You now have a choice to continue stringing together notions in the form of weak sentences, or to venture further into the depths of the internet in search of another entertainment armed well enough to kill off an hour.
Come, let's google conspiracy theories.
Today gripped me in confusing ways. I am calm, despite the blow that was the 23rd of January, yet I am bored. The earphones are starting to feel like they're a part of my head, and the sounds that come from them, though not as good as what good speakers are capable of, are not moving me at all. I know not anymore what is a good song and what is not, not with these earphones. A dissolution from over-saturation. Try doing what I've been doing at this table for the past 3 months and you'll probably end up here too.
Hello. Was the journey as sluggish and dreary as mine?
Oh, writing. Drama. Exaggeration without an intention to do so nor knowing why we do so. Of course none of it really matters. In fact, matters like this post on this blog do not matter at all, for I am my one and only audience. Yet I put this out. Why?
Because it is more convenient to type and erase and add and subtract. And seeing that I can't have anything close to a proper conversation these days due to the absence of mortal company/ beating-heart presence, the urge for any form of closure has to be appeased and made manifest here. Please note that I now admit to possible incoherence in my sentences.
Foreseen, a particular natural query that others are apt to question upon arrival at such posts - precarious, dangerous, personal, quite inappropriate, and redundant. Why? Regardless of subjective opinions put forth by varying individuals, I personally think that the only justification to my behaviour is aided by my certain propensity to the idea of this outward spewing of nonverbals - whether it is making sense, substantial, and agreeable, or not - to the vast unknown of viable knowns and unknowns. Doing so builds and even accentuates an unmistakable yet discreet sense of inner, unvoiced satisfaction and fulfillment of detachment. Not very unlike allowing the masses to read up on your memoir. Again, I'd like to emphasize that although varying (subjective) opinions/judgments are freely formed and stubbornly stood by, it is, however, profoundly recommended that said opinions and the like be set aside prior to engagement of action (reading).
And yeah, because you want it out in the open instead of stashed in one of the many notebooks you've bought in your muddled past, and ultimately forgotten in the dust of time, right? There I go again, writing. Drama. Exaggerated drama in writing. Where's that moleskine that's still devoid of content, anyway? Remind me to go home and find it. But do we have time?
Time has lately been cruelly divided into portions uneven and ridiculous for me. I spend a total of up to 4 hours sitting in a crawl on a highway amongst other people sitting in the same crawl on the same highway, every day. And in between that, I sit on a chair at a table with little to no work to do, every day. Then, I am left with the final few hours of the weekdays for things I need more time to do but the productivity in these final few hours will never be fully harnessed, not after dealing with all the demotivation from the stagnant, major prior portion of time spent sitting down not being able to do anything else unless it is work-related. See how it is all so unfair?
Stop.
Look up and around. Inhale with your eyes the fluorescent lights that fill up the space around you and then close them, your eyes. Now open. It's 4.30PM. You have one more hour. You now have a choice to continue stringing together notions in the form of weak sentences, or to venture further into the depths of the internet in search of another entertainment armed well enough to kill off an hour.
Come, let's google conspiracy theories.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Forgive me if I'm wrong
But who am I to say or know who matters until I waste precious moments with them? Lately, I’ve placed a particular amount of guilt-trip on myself, especially upon reflection of certain people in my past. I regret every moment that I spent with someone who caused me pain, but then I reflect on it, and it’s not regret.
It’s defense. A barrier that I put up, so that when I talk to other people, I can make it sound like I’ve got my shit together. But none of us seem to have it together, even when we believe that we do. And the reality of my situation is that I never regret what I was wholeheartedly passionate about in that moment of the past, even if that passion no longer exists today.
EMPT
Monday, December 17, 2012
Answers!
Do I really, really have this much time in my hands or am I just a super shiteous employee? That's right, cue the pointy fingers and point them, oh you point them until the whole ordeal gets too pointless for pointing. How pointy is the tip of the sword of a swordfish? Never mind.
I'm taking the time to compile another CD for the Waj-diggity. Taking the time? No, couldn't be. Time was given without my even asking for it. Hence I'm USING this time and simultaneously appearing stupider than stupid. No scratch that. Restart.
I've been using a good amount of time catching up on things only accessible through this 14inch of a screen. Reading, mostly. Finding out, reading. It's weird, cause it's as though I'm slowly becoming smart again. Smarter that my stupid radio self. Just smarter than stupid, in truth.
I've been using a good amount of time catching up on things only accessible through this 14inch of a screen. Reading, mostly. Finding out, reading. It's weird, cause it's as though I'm slowly becoming smart again. Smarter that my stupid radio self. Just smarter than stupid, in truth.
Let's go away now. Ever wondered how our liking for songs has swayed so much over the years. I have, and I know it's weird. Weird, in a good way, I'd say. Weird, in a quite eccentric kinda way, some might say.
It's weird, because we reject the mainstream in hopes that there is something more. There IS, and always will be something more, hence we search...and sometimes we find those lil gems in the rough. No diamonds. A "diamond" is merely part of human nomenclature. Let's stick with gems for now. Because we have hopes for something more. Always.
But that's a diamond you hold in your grubby hands..that's a diamond alright, my friend!
Oh I wish I believed you, friend.
Watched Life of Pi last week. Touched my heart in many soft places, but I guess you can never be fully satisfied with a screen adaptation of a book you've read 3 times, even more so when it's one of your favourites of all time and you know it all by heart. No blind Frenchman conversation, but I'm glad they featured the freak island. It may seem like the whole piece is just a page-filler - a separate, completely irrelevant, hallucinated and deluded entity - but wait, there has to be meaning to this! An island that welcomes you with refuge and rest, but kicks you out just in time before it eats you up? It's saying, "don't you get comfortable now. Move on, sail away, great things await. Go!"
Oh I wish I believed you, friend.
Watched Life of Pi last week. Touched my heart in many soft places, but I guess you can never be fully satisfied with a screen adaptation of a book you've read 3 times, even more so when it's one of your favourites of all time and you know it all by heart. No blind Frenchman conversation, but I'm glad they featured the freak island. It may seem like the whole piece is just a page-filler - a separate, completely irrelevant, hallucinated and deluded entity - but wait, there has to be meaning to this! An island that welcomes you with refuge and rest, but kicks you out just in time before it eats you up? It's saying, "don't you get comfortable now. Move on, sail away, great things await. Go!"
It's the idea of settling for something you think is good, abandoning the notion that there could be something better. How then, do we know if what we have in our grubby hands now is a rare, blazing piece of rock we call a diamond?
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
But of course
Oh hello,
Who's bored? Eat a sandwich.
But if you're only just mildly there, then I suggest you do what I'm doing - write a post with no intention nor direction at all as to what said post would be about. Great, now that we've shaken hands and exchanged hello's, onwards!
You know, I really wonder at how everyone around me in this office has come about to propping themselves at their cubicles from 9-5 every single day for the rest of their lives. Why do people do that? Is this what we've been taught to do as we were growing up? To go through school and college and uni and then...this? Accepting reality. Accepting life. Being responsible. How is it even comfortable to begin with?
Then spread your wings and go out and discover the world and be happy, they tell me. But how, with no money to exchange for this...happiness? Is happiness then, not free? But of course! All things in life are free of charge if you pay for it :) but.of.course.
Money is such a shit form of currency. Whoever elected to use money as a medium of exchange probably thought it was the most brilliant idea ever. Look at us now.
Imagine if happiness was in its place. How much is this sandwich? 10 happies, sir. Here you go, now I'm sad. But in 10 minutes, someone will be coming around to make you happy again. And that happy is free, because it is your heart that is happy, not your pockets. You're right, may you earn a lot of happies today. Thank you for the sandwich, good day, good sir!
Good day back atcha.
Who's bored? Eat a sandwich.
But if you're only just mildly there, then I suggest you do what I'm doing - write a post with no intention nor direction at all as to what said post would be about. Great, now that we've shaken hands and exchanged hello's, onwards!
You know, I really wonder at how everyone around me in this office has come about to propping themselves at their cubicles from 9-5 every single day for the rest of their lives. Why do people do that? Is this what we've been taught to do as we were growing up? To go through school and college and uni and then...this? Accepting reality. Accepting life. Being responsible. How is it even comfortable to begin with?
Then spread your wings and go out and discover the world and be happy, they tell me. But how, with no money to exchange for this...happiness? Is happiness then, not free? But of course! All things in life are free of charge if you pay for it :) but.of.course.
Money is such a shit form of currency. Whoever elected to use money as a medium of exchange probably thought it was the most brilliant idea ever. Look at us now.
Imagine if happiness was in its place. How much is this sandwich? 10 happies, sir. Here you go, now I'm sad. But in 10 minutes, someone will be coming around to make you happy again. And that happy is free, because it is your heart that is happy, not your pockets. You're right, may you earn a lot of happies today. Thank you for the sandwich, good day, good sir!
Good day back atcha.
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