Spring Fever

Spring is here. The days are longer, the cool breeze and the rustle of leaves. No wonder they the say that love is in the air. Quiet walks in the park, gelato hand in hand, coffee with the papers in the open or even a couple of margaritas, it doesn’t matter. It is spring, where everything’s wiped anew. Woke up at noon with the sun on my back on Sunday, not wanting to sleep anymore, not wanting to miss the day. Took a stroll with a mate to get a drafting table my tutor is throwing out. Spring cleaning was his call for the day, for my mate, it’s a $6.30 for a full sized drafting table; $6.30 was for the cab. Lazing around till she came online. She’s JC; someone I met thought another mate, had a few coffees and dinners together. Today she’s bored; she has holidays, unlike me. She asked if I was in the city. Definitely, I live in the city. Oh good. She wants to do a little browsing, there are sales down in Myer, better yet, I wanted to get down to the newly opened GPO to get myself a shirt. We met up in Myers and sieved through pink, blue, yellow, sparking, dull, daring and provocative earrings and bracelets, she got none. Her “baby doll” bracelet was sold out so we went over to the GPO. Plain white with prints or striped with sewed on ornament? She didn’t like the one with stripes but she reckons it looks good on me. Walked out of the shop $99.95 poorer with the shirt. Moon cakes; she had this sudden carving for moon cakes, PMS she said, so the next stop was the Asian grocers. She got her moon cakes; I got my canned stewed pork ribs. The day was close to dark, not wanting to waste it, we had Vietnamese while we watch the changing ambience. I paid for dinner; she wanted to pay me back. Nah, made her pay for coffee instead. A quick stroll and we were in Starbucks, me sipping my almost hopeless commercial latte while I watch a contented little girl slurping her iced mocha. We talked about stuffs, the usual, friends, family, careers, university, and her old times, my old times with a bit of everything slipped in between. Had call it a night at ten as she has applications to be done online. Saw her off in the tram and happily walked home, feeling contented. Never mind she’s a looker, she’s nice, she’s cute, she’s serious and she’s what I’ve been looking for. There’s one catch. She’s taken! Fuck! Why does it always have to be this shit? The Unknown is in a dilemma. Now, what should I do?

Hmmm

Happy aniversary to something really great which ended not so great after all. Cheers to life.

90-minutes life time

Alright, I probably haven't blogged in a while. Makes me wonder. Maybe it's because I do not have a net connection in my studio, as this post itself is written beforehand and posted later, kind of like McDonalds, where they would fry the chicken, deep freeze it and re-fry it when ordered. Perhaps a more valid reason for the hiatus is that I've been awfully busy, not solely in terms of uni work but of lately, been doing quite a bit of soul searching, finally getting down to solving the shits I'm in along with this mate of mine who's in the UK. Pretty much known each other since 7. Talk about childhood friends, our parents know each other, we have almost the same upbringing and probably the same drilling. Funny thing is, a long time ago, back in like say when we were 11, my impression of him was a cunning arrogant bastard. Funnier even, today we can almost read off each other's mind, we are stuck in the same situation, same sort of depression and goodness, almost the same fall, even though we're in different colleges back in Kuala Lumpur. Talk about dejavu! Right. We often have our talks, on life, theorising life, dreams and ambitions. Each and every time we get back to Malaysia, there we'll be, well sat on the same old familiar bench in the all too familiar parks, he sipping his budwiser while I'll have my Heini, puffing out lungs black, laughing our lungs out. Both blessed with a too bloody good memory, yesteryears were recall with Technicolor accuracy. Still do that till today. Be it Bangkung or "Old Trafford" back in our hometown, we tend to theorise a lot on life, friends, acquaintances, enemies etc but of lately, for these past 2 years, we tend to focus on "the shit we are in". Questions too arrogant to be asked during the "good ol' days" were thrown around; mistakes too egoistic to be admited were swallowed willingly. Enough. We had enough of what have become of us. It has already taken a toll on us, living with depression isn't easy. Ask anyone. Not only it isn't easy to live with but it gets even more so depression since we know we are depressed and are able to recognize it while at the same time, not being able to resolve it. Nothing pisses us off more than not being able to resolve a matter. Years gone by and finally, guess this would be the first few pieces to the puzzle. Multiple personalities. Jokes aside! Kid you not, we tend to play different roles and adopt different characters and traits in dealing with different people. It certainly has a good side to it, we get around very well with people and it did help plough our way though life. Bad side to it is, after playing them for so long, umpteen years, those characters we play start playing us back. It really seems like each and every one has developed a soul of their own. Even more, that has led us to be wary of big groups of people, mainly because we have no idea which character to put on, who to play, that's when it becomes a little too much to handle. No wonder we always keep different group of friends seperated. Never mix friends, that I suppose still stands. At days I myself find it hard to know who I am playing and at the end of the day, who I am? Finally, the question has been posed. The very first step to end this depressing shit we're in is as simply as to find out who we really are. Simple as said, never as simply done. That's what I got out of a 90 minutes-cheaper-than-Malaysia phone call to the UK. Anyone get what I'm babbling?

Untitled Song

Sitting here alone,
all that I can be is me,
sitting here alone,
for someone else to see.

Mr. bartender get me a drink,
be it straight on rocks,
Mr. bartender pour me a drink,
for you and all I'll sing.

Lonely winter's gone,
still I'll sing my song,
spring's here not for long,
so I'll sing my lonely song.

Mr. bartender pour me a drink,
be it straight on rocks,
Mr. bartender pour me a drink,
for you and all I'll sing.

As lonely as I can be,
never is my mind free,
as close to loney I can be
who is there to see?

Mr. bartender pour me a drink,
be it straight on rocks,
Mr. bartender pour me a drink,
for you and all I'll sing,
Mr. bartender pour me a drink,
before I begin to sink.

I'm screwed...

Yeap, I'm fucked, proper fucked! Right. In a nut shell, for this particular subject I'm doing, namely Asian Architecture B ( which I wish I didn't enrol for) we have a choice of writing an essay, do a 3d computer model or a timber scale modelof a tradisional building. I lead a group of 5, which I've volunteered to do the shop drawings for the model. I volunteered simply because I do have vast experience with wood work and at the same time, managed projects of this sort and scale ever since lower secondary. Rule no one is to always get the drawings needed right. With proper planning, 80% of the work is done. Work on the project is streamlined and there will be less chances of making mistakes. Now the thing is, I've just met with the wood work co-ordinator and all he said was "it's too late". What the fuck?! we've got a month and a half to go to just fucking cut pieces of wood and put them together, and he tell me it's too late. I'm dumbfolded. Fuck him! I've aced 2 metre tall scale models for exhibition within 2 fucking days with a 2 person team and now I've got a group of 5 and he's telling me it's too late without even listening to what i've got to say or even look at the shop drawings which i painstakingly produce. Perfect! Proper fucked. Feel like a couple of drinks, definately need them before i break the news to the rest of the team. Got to see him again tomorrow. Hopefully we will be able to convince him to let us work on it. Tonight's gonna be a long one, gotta think of a contigency plan. Fucking timber ain't cheap if we were to do it ourselves. Bloody hell, why in the first place did I ever enrol for this bloody subject? Now I'm proper fucked.

Moody

I can't relieve what i'm feeling. I can't deceive the voice within. The Unknown is sad, angry and ultimately lost. The Unknown longs for the past more than ever so. The Unknown knows not what he's typing, what he's saying and definately what he's going through. The Unknown is discontented with what he has, and yet The Unknown knows he can't ask for more. The Unknown will be here to stay awhile. I miss myself.

Strange

Maybe it's just because I'm a bloody Malaysian, feeling bloody wierd talking to my tutor on msn. Hmm, maybe because i'm not used to the blurred boundary of mentor-student. Anyway it still feels wierd. Too weird, too bloody uncomfortable. Not too bad a weekend though.

The Unknown rants too much.

I'm pointing it out as I do realise I constantly rant. What else could I do? For years I kept bottling up and finally I suppose the bottle’s full, right to the brim. I am a deep thinker, commented those who have seen this side of me. Many times where I wish I could just turn off and not think as much. Having a good memory doesn’t help either. Long term memories are photographic, can’t say much bout the short term ones. The result; stuffs that made it into the long term category remains there, as fresh as fish out of the sea, and like fishes, they tend to stink. Above all, I remember best the better years gone by when my memory was a blessing. They haunt me now, creeping back to remind me of better times. I may look young for my age but not deep down inside. The Unknown within has grown steady old now, too tired to deal with so many issues time and again, too tired to play the many characters I've done so for years. The Unknown shouts in vain and cries in pain. It’s almost like looking out from a little window, watching my very own life passing me by, not able, not willing to do anything about it. I was out there once though, happily contented with what I have, with many great plans for the days ahead. Maybe they were too much for me to chew. Arrogant and naïve, I snorted the substance known as success, a little too much and one day, I just laid there helplessly as everything I had came tumbling down with only bits and pieces to pick from the rubble. I salvaged all I could and move on, least try to, only to realise a few years later that I’m permanently scared and it still hurts. The Unknown is not who he used to be though he tries not to show it. The Unknown still arrogantly do not believe in weakness, and yet weakness clouds The Unknown. What I do not resolve I do not forget, and what I don’t forget I regret. Depressing isn’t it?

On a lighter note of stuff, The Unknown is really busy with uni. The Unknown is trying hard to tie up some loose ends in his studies as to not let them haunt him in his later years. See, I learn from my mistakes. I am absolutely not going to let this be another A-level. I’ll sit for the A-level again during my year-off-work. It’s been at the back of my head for nearly 3 years now. Fine if my parents didn’t agree to it back then, they say it’s a waste of time. Like my parents, a buddy of mine here argues that I shouldn’t try stubbornly to change the past but instead move on. Like my parents, he couldn't see beyond time. Time is precious but contentment is timeless, anyone agrees with me on that?

Longer days are here to stay,
Winter has gone away,
Let the rain wash away the pain,
Skies are soon to change.

I’ll probably run a series of writings and reflection done over the years to substitute for my lack of input (Sorry Evie, I'll have to raincheck you the Bloody Asians). Hopefully this will give a better insight on The Unknown. Hopefully in return I'll understand the Unknown within me too.