Life Blunderer

Delegation through Tai Chi

2008-05-13T20:54:00.002+08:00

Open up Google.com and type in "define:tai chi" without the quotes in its search box and the first definition to crop up is this:

Tai Chi: A traditional Chinese mind-body relaxation exercise consisting of 108 intricate exercise sequences performed in a slow relaxed manner over a 30 minute period

Now, type in "define:delegation" without the quotes in Google's search box and the second definition (because this definition suits the context of this article) to appear is this:

Delegation: The assignment to others of the authority for particular functions, tasks, and decisions.

There is a connection between the two, as can clearly be seen from my above title, "Delegation through Tai Chi". Now, delegating tasks is a perfectly natural behavior for leaders. Leaders lead, and an effective leader delegates tasks to their subordinates. The effective leader is there to supervise, to guide, and to encourage. A good leader leads and instills discipline, hope, inspiration, and motivation to their subordinates. A good leader also keeps an open mind. A good leader isn't afraid to help when needed by subordinates, doesn't whine when workloads become unbearable, doesn't complain when they need to get their hands dirty.

Yes, a good leader has all those qualities, and perhaps more. I'm not a leader so I cannot profess or pretend to know about leading and what makes a good leader. I'm merely a follower, so I follow where my leader leads me. Yes, I know that a leader's job is tough and I may be so myopic so as not to see or feel or empathize or sympathize or whatever the fucking hell you call it, with the leader's job and stresses.

Yes, I may be all that but one thing I do know is, leaders have to be responsible. No matter what kind of a leader you are, a good one, a bad one, a fucking horrible one, as a leader, you have to be responsible. Only people with a strong sense of responsibility can be leaders. If a leader is not responsible for his or her own work, then what kind of a stupid motherfucking leader is (s)he?

Let me come back to delegating tasks to subordinates. Of course, one of the skills of being a leader is the innate ability to delegate tasks suited to different skill levels of subordinates. Part of being a successful and well-loved leader is being able to delegate tasks to ensure that the whole project meshes together beautifully in the end.

Again, I don't make a good leader because I suck at delegating tasks. First of all, I have a heavy sense of responsibility (if I do say so myself), so much so that for everything, every little fucking detail, every little fucking thing, I'll take it upon myself that I must do them myself. It's here that I both flounder and flourish. Flounder because I suck at delegating, thus I don't have an important criterion to become a leader. Flourish because although I don't have the skills to delegate, I have a strong sense of responsibility, which is also one of the important criteria to become a good leader.

Of course, too much of a good thing is not such a good thing after all. Let me elaborate.

There was once a leader (by rank and title) who led a team of subordinates in a world-renowned firm. Now, this leader (who shall remain nameless and shall be referred to as Ms. C from here on end) had just been promoted and shoulders the responsibility of leading a team of subordinates. She had excellent delegating skills, so much so that her delegating skills have become legendary in a short time.

In the eyes of higher management, she is efficient, because although she's inundated by work, she seems to always be able to stay on top and be in control of everything. But the truth is, she's so good in delegating tasks that she even has free time all the time to do the thing she loves: chatting on the phone, loitering around, being a bitch, etc. In the end, her subordinates do all the things. She, in turn, just hands up the work to higher management.

Re-read the last line of the preceding paragraph. Now, as mentioned before, a good leader is responsible. Ms. C however, is not responsible. She doesn't even bother to review her subordinates' work, and hands it over to higher management and gets all the credit when it is a job well done but passes the rap down to her subordinates when it is a job poorly done.

As a leader, she was once non-approachable, bossy, demanding, and did not guide her subordinates well. After some pep talk by higher management, she seemed to be more approachable than before, still very bossy and demanding, and is starting to guide her subordinates more. At least there's improvement, but her folly...

her folly...

her folly of delegating tasks is still there. She delegates tasks so that she herself won't have to get her hands dirty. She is smart, too, in that she picks subordinates whom she thinks is capable enough to handle the job given and who'll stay up late to rush for her, while she herself often takes early leave to go home and, I dunno, maybe fuck her fiance.

She's irresponsible in the sense that she delegates too much. We have a term for this in Chinese, it's called tai chi. No, it's not the exercise in this context, but it might as well be. Assigning blame to others is also a form of tai chi. Re-read the definition above. Tai chi has 108 intricate exercise sequences, so you can imagine how large her arsenal of tai chi moves is.

And tai chi is performed in a slow and relaxing manner; that's why she has so much time on her hands, so much so that when a subordinate asks for her help, she deftly tai chis that particular subordinate's request by saying, "Oh, sorry, I have to guide another subordinate" when in actual fact, she just lazes around doing absolutely nothing of substantial importance.

TO BE CONTINUED

Philosophy of Work and of Life

2008-03-20T14:40:00.001+08:00

This is the original unedited piece which I intended to put in my Friendster as a bulletin. Alas, I had to change the vulgar words to enable it to be posted there. The references of "bulletin" points to the bulletin board of Friendster.

For all those nitpickers and grammarians out there, you'll be the first ones to point out that grammatically, my above title of "Philosophy of Work and of Life" is correct but is aesthetically displeasing. You'll be the first to tell me to remove the "of" before "Life" so that it'll look prettier.

Well, fuck you if you think that way, because this is my piece and I'll use, MISuse, and ABuse the English language in the most fitting way that suits me.

This is going to be a long outpouring, so if you're the kind that's impatient, I suggest you skip this and GO FUCK YOURSELF.

Otherwise, please join in. See what makes me tick and what makes me disillusioned, disenfranchised, disconnected, discontent, and demotivated.

I have come to learn something which in my opinion is life shattering. I have learnt that in work, it is best to distance myself from being too close to any one of my colleagues. That in work, however hard it is, or however hurtful it may be, the best way to OPERATE EFFECTIVELY AND PRODUCTIVELY is to keep my colleagues at a distance and to detach my emotions with my professional endeavours.

When colleagues become too "chummy chummy", all manners of ugly emotions surface. Because let's face it, you can't please everyone every time. Which is why every time you feel left out, you start getting angry, you start getting jealous, you start questioning your so-called "friends-cum-colleagues".

Whether it's the unintentional dropping of your name from the list of invitees to an ex-colleague's wedding dinner, or the unintentional/intentional oversight of not calling you to join for a session of "yum cha" after work, or just any other "small" matter that precluded you from that activity, or even precluded you from the mere "invitation" to that activity, it all adds up.

You start to feel, after some time, that it's just not worth it to invest in so much emotion to connect with these friends cum colleagues when in the end, you end up feeling left out and/or shortchanged.

Of course, by "you", I could have easily meant "I".

So, in the end, one question pops up: Why bother?

It's high time to detach yourself from all this shit. Of course, the other argument may be that it's only oversight, those are small things that shouldn't ruin a friendship.

To which I rebut: it's EXACTLY these small things that ruin friendships. I consider myself a good friend once you get to know me, but I'm also notorious for breaking off friendships because of small things. Do I have regrets doing so? Maybe. But it's my nature, it's the real me, and there is little that I can do to change it.

Which is why I now feel, as I had felt when I started my work life, that colleagues should remain colleagues. But I've invested so much emotionally to be accepted by them that I feel it's very difficult to detach or separate myself from them.

Furthermore, to detach myself from them now would be a near impossible task because I really do treat them as friends. Whether or not they reciprocate is another matter, though.

I say "a near impossible task". Which means I believe it is still possible. When it gets to this stage, i.e. when I'm neck-deep in work and I cannot get any emotional support from any of my so-called friends cum colleagues, I think it is high time to just separate "friends" from "colleagues".

To not do so would be the real mistake. To not do so means I'll invest more emotionally in the so-called "friendships" and find myself being left out again and again and again.

To not do so would mean I'll self-destruct faster.

So, to those who have been reading this bulletin until now, I hope I've been clear in what I've said and you understand my feelings and emotions, as well as the rationale for my sudden change of attitude, behaviours, and values.

It's my belief that we should change in order to fit the norm and to serve our own interests.

Because deep, deep down inside, we are all selfish people.

Recommended music

2008-01-29T20:04:00.000+08:00

Anything by Frank Zappa (and the Mothers of Invention), but especially the album "Hot Rats".

Anything by The Mars Volta, but especially their debut album "De-Loused at the Comatorium".

Anything by Cradle of Filth, but especially their album "Midian".

Anthrax's "Attack of the Killer B's".

Anything by the late, great Nick Drake (for some soothing music).

Anything by Metallica, but especially the album "Master of Puppets".

Anything by Yes (for some prog rock).

Anything by White Zombie, but especially "La Sexorcisto 2: The Devil's Music".

Anything by the venerable Guns N' Roses, but I especially like "Appetite for Destruction".

Anything by Blind Guardian.

Helloween's "Keeper of the Seven Keys: Part II".

Pearl Jam's "rearviewmirror".

Anything by G3 in any of their incarnations.

Machine Head's "The Blackening".

Napalm Death's "SCUM".

Cannibal Corpse's "Eaten Back to Life".

Crimson King's "In the Court of the Crimson King" (classic!).

Soundtrack of "End of Days".

Disillusionment

2008-01-27T20:26:00.000+08:00

As I am sitting here typing this, it's 8.29p.m. on a Sunday in office. I've worked seven days a week, although I cannot say with certainty that I've put that much effective hours into my work. Because, ladies and gentlemen, let's face it, with an Internet connection, there's really no controlling myself to surf the Internet during one of my many "AHHH!! I'M SO FUCKING SICK OF WORK!!!" moments now, is there?

Well, the good news is that I've got myself promoted and my salary has been revised to boot. But the bad news is...aplenty. Which will, by the time I finish this entry, lead to one word: disillusionment.

I'd like to think that the reason I got promoted is because I have excelled in my work, that my performance merits some sort of reward in the form of a salary increase and promotion. Looking back at the past 8 months which I've worked in my current firm, I noticed something very disturbing. And I use that word very, very loosely.

I've sucked with time. That's the gist of it; I'm sucking more and more as I go along. I compare my efficiency now with my efficiency several months ago, heck, even a year ago when I was a trainee in this same firm, and I notice that my level of efficiency has dropped dramatically. Which is why I have the firm belief that the promotion is just a way of (officially) saying "Hey, you! We want to push you to a higher level because WE HAVEN'T GOT ENOUGH PEOPLE IN THAT LEVEL!!"

------------------------------I went back home at this stage and the subsequent paragraphs were added today, Tuesday, at 7.46pm--------------------------------------------

So, left and right, all that I manage to see (and I do emphasize that I'm a pessimist both by heart and by choice) is disillusionment. (Almost) all my colleagues feel the same way that I do. I'm beginning to have serious doubts about the work that I'm doing, not because I'm questioning the underlying reasons that it must be done this, that, or any other fucking way, but because I'm starting to doubt myself.

I'm starting to get disillusioned about work, which in turn affects my outlook on life. Which sucks because I'm now in a constant state of tiresome depression and I don't get enough sleep. I'm currently riding the "peak season" now, which in my line (audit), often means having to work til 3-4am every day, with 3 or at the maximum, 4 hours, of sleep daily.

Work is neverending for me. Even after ending one job, there will be other jobs. This vicious cycle has been going on nonstop since the day I joined the firm, but has just recently escalated to an almost unbearable level.

I still fervently and sincerely believe that I can take much more pressure, but at the same time, am feeling disillusioned, at my job, at myself, and at my life.

An old friend

2008-01-26T14:26:00.000+08:00

I got the pleasure today to visit an old friend's blog, in which he writes profound words, so very much like him. Intense, deeply rooted in reality, and a continuous inner struggle to understand, to fathom, and to make sense of the senseless and make sane the insanity that we call life. This monster that we call life, so full of unpleasantness, disappointments and heartaches, which sometimes carries with it so much hope and optimism for the future, but which ultimately ends with death.

This guy is an old friend from my secondary school days, head prefect and an all-around nice guy. We became lesser and lesser in contact with each other after the year 2000, when I quit Form Six to continue my education elsewhere. Since then we had met up very occasionally for Chinese New Year meetings which would also become lesser and lesser until on the third year (I think, in 2003), I just sort of distanced myself from my secondary school friends and didn't attend any gatherings until the present day.

Reading his blog (which is here), I have come to realize that he has gone through many things in life, and that these experiences enrich him. There's a Chinese saying that goes something like this: do not compare yourself with others as there is no point in doing so. This basically means that there's no use comparing apples and oranges. But I cannot help but compare myself with my old friend, and finding out that I have lived an almost carefree life, that my own worries and contemplations are neither as deep as nor as profound as my old friend's.

He had gone to the most prestigious university in Malaysia, and graduated, I have nary a doubt, with a first-class honours (assumption :)). Somehow, from what I know, his current job as an underwriter deviates from his university degree, and I don't profess to know what happened, but my guess is that he got disillusioned with his previous job and wanted to experience something new, something different.

We all have these thoughts, don't we? Just to abandon everything altogether and start from scratch, start anew, refresh our tired old selves. But how many of us have dared to take that first step to actually start over? To hit the "Delete" button and record our lives anew?

My old friend (and you know who you are), this is an entry in tribute of you: you have slogged through life with dogged perseverance and suffered major setbacks bothe professionally, personally, and spiritually (although, as you know me, I personally don't believe in spirituality, but I know you do :)) , and you have emerged unscathed. You know you're a fighter in all aspects of life. You'll fight for what you think is right, no fear. I just hope that however disillusioned you've become, you always think optimistically, for optimism is what keeps us alive.

I may scoff at how disposable life is, but the truth is, deep down inside, I fucking treasure life. Just so you know. Heh.

Work, work, work

2008-01-07T20:31:00.000+08:00

I never really gave a shit for any celebrations. Not new year, not chinese new year, not hari raya, not christmas, not deepavali, none of that shit interests me. I never really understood the meaning of all these celebrations, never had any religious inclinations nor am I really rooted to my, umm, roots to care enough about these stupid motherfucking celebrations.

Celebrations of joy, celebrations of life, fuck, all those are bullshit.

I never believed in any of those, and I guess I never ever will. I just cannot get it past my mind, just cannot wrap it around my head: what's the big fucking fuss about all these mindless, meaningless celebrations?

You celebrate for awhile, then it's back to the good old grind that we call "life". Shit huh? Celebrations are just excuses for one to say "fuck all this" and get rested so that s/he can go on struggling in life.

I guess the rich have it good, huh?

They get to party every day, thus treating every day as a celebration, with tonnes of money left to spend. What an unfair world, but the world has always been unfair.

Division of wealth? No such thing. Short of robbing banks, a less-than-the-average-social-class person will never ever get rich. I don't give a fuck how hardworking he is, or how many jobs he moonlights, he will never in this life get rich. Unless, of course, he experiences some fluke such as striking the lottery or robbing banks.

Such is the state of humanity today. Life fucking sucks, and the world keeps turning.

So why the celebration?

I GOT CHARACTER

2007-11-28T19:18:00.000+08:00

Just got this email yesterday from a colleague of mine with the accompanying caption "Dare to paste this at your workplace?". Now I'm pretty fucking sure most of you have seen this (if there's anyone reading this fucking blog, that is), but I'm going to post anyway. I GOT CHARACTER!

So how? Dare ah? Thought so. Chicken.

Of Politics and Patriotism

2007-08-15T17:14:00.000+08:00

The brouhaha about the Negarakuku music video shit has boiled over. The fella in question has issued an apology to all Malaysians, or so the papers say. You know how they say our mainstream media nowadays play spin doctor and twist the facts to suit their (read: THE CONTROLLING GOVERNMENT'S) own agendas? Well, I checked out his blog and he didn't specifically apologize to all Malaysians. He created a blog entry in Bahasa Malaysia (it is Bahasa Malaysia now, right?) explaining certain falsifying and misleading news reports about his song.

The link is here: http://namewee.blogspot.com/

Read very carefully his entry, as carefully as when you read those fine prints in contracts and agreements. His arguments are valid, he only mentioned that he apologizes to anyone who feels insulted/angry/hurt over his Negaraku rap. But he has defended himself well, arguing his points lucidly. Anyone who has watched the music video will tend to agree that the rap verses in the MV are true, reflective of the state of affairs in Malaysia.

So, one wonders what the real issue is in this bullshit of epic proportions. The political powers that be have contradicted themselves yet again, by first calling for an apology from Wee (the fella in question) and later saying that an apology is not enough, he has to face legal action because he has touched on the sensitivities of religion and shit. Now, all's well so far if they want to clearly separate the apology from the legal action.

But then again, this little episode has shown the intolerance of the government to free speech. Free speech, at least to me, means that everything can be said, and everything can be said with conviction without fear of getting arrested or getting tripped by the law. Free speech means that I can say something that offends you and vice versa without having the ISA slapped on me. Free speech means I can talk about fucking your religion over and over again and that's alright because I'm exercising my freedom of speech, and although you may be offended, it doesn't mean that I'm going to get arrested for my speech.

As they say, talk is cheap. Some people are of the opinion that we must be responsible for whatever that comes out of our mouth, as well as be responsible for all our actions. I agree. We must talk the talk and walk the walk, to borrow an overused cliche. But more often than not, talk is cheap, and it fucking shows. On the internet, where cyberlaws are nonexistent, is a hotbed for freedom of speech. On the internet we can find wondrous comments and childish, immature arguments about "FUCK MALAYS" or "FUCK CHINESE" or "FUCK INDIANS".

Racism. It's an ugly thing BUT you can't help but be a little bit of a racist when you live in Malaysia. Especially now, when we're seemingly in a cusp where everything is threatening to fall over at the mosr fundamental level. Race relations seem to be okay, but compared to those good old days, race relations now seem to falter bit by bit day by day until one day, like a tree whose base has been gnawed by an animal, just waiting for the right minute when the tree collapses.

Already the voices of dissent are growing ever louder by the day. Non-Muslims have long felt the inequalities. The princes of the land (Bumi Putera) have been enjoying, and still continues to enjoy (let's face it, huh?) certain privileges that will never be enjoyed by non-Muslims, at least not for the next 400-odd years when the "bumiputera" label sticks.

With the current crackdowns on seditious blogs, I'd prefer to refrain from making any controversial remarks, anything that would result in me being hauled for detention under the ISA. I, as with many other Chinese Malaysian, am a coward at heart, and not afraid to admit it.

Talking about politics and politicians, I've started to absorb what's written in Malaysia Today. Some say it's full of bullshit, slander, and lies. Some say it speaks the truth, uncovering conspiracies and scandals of the Malaysian political-cum-governmental landscape. I like reading the blogs on the site, albeit, I must say, that I find some articles just either too farfetching or too unrealistic (more to slander than well-researched pieces).

Responses are welcome.

The ups and downs of life

2007-07-18T21:59:00.000+08:00

I've been thinking lately. Well, not thinking thinking, if you get my drift. Not thinking thinking thinking. Just thinking. Skritcha skritcha-ing the surface stuff, nothing overly deep or philosophical. Just been thinking some stuff over.

You know, I've been working as a permanent audit staff for ~~two~~ almost three months now, and I get demotivated and depressed every now and then by just looking at the tons and tons of unfinished work I have on my hands. Really serious shit, I tell you. Really, really serious backlog shit shit.

Which got me thinking. In life we have our ups and downs, but how do we really handle the fucking downs in our lives? How do we motivate ourselves to get the fuck up in the mornings and just wade through all the shit that's piling up on us...just to maybe get through another day unscathed physically and, more importantly, mentally?

Believe me, one could go bonkers and shit-stone-cold-motherfuckin' crazy if one is not mentally and physically "tested" to go through what auditors go through.

Actually the word "auditor" is a complete fucking misnomer...I'm technically an "audit assistant" a.k.a junior a.k.a insignificant little speck of germ. But I'll get there soon, I'll climb up the ladder and when I turn 40 I'll perhaps be the partner of the firm.

If I don't quit after six months and open up a shit-shovelling company. After all, this job has taught me, more or less, how to shovel shitload after shitload of shit each and every day (well, almost).

But don't get me wrong. I respect the job. After all, if I don't shovel the shit, who will? Teamwork, man! One shovels the shit while the other, errr, passes it along.

How not to get demotivated is a somewhat less important question than how to get myself motivated? By waking up every morning and taking a cold shower, constantly reminding myself that today will be better than yesterday, and that I'll make things happen instead of waiting for things to happen or waiting for someone to make my things happen. By thinking of ways to work smart rather than work hard. By constantly reminding myself that I have a loonnnng way to go before I reach "successful careerist" title, when I'm 45 and retire early and do the things that I want to do.

That's how I motivate myself.

Then I take a look at the amount of work/shit I have outstanding and...

...I crumble. Well, almost. I just keep refreshing my mind and keep reminding myself that it's worth it all the fucking way. No regrets, just a lot of blood (well, figuratively at least), sweat and motherfucking tears (to borrow a phrase). That one day I'll reach the apex and the pinnacle of...

...Oh shit, I better stop before I sound like some corny, overused and oft-repeated cliche of the 80s. What the fuck.

The Revival of a Long Dead Blog

2007-07-09T19:33:00.000+08:00

Shit. How many times have we done this, starting a blog and giving it up halfway, then resurrecting it again (is the grammar correct? "Resurrect" already has an element of "again" in it; so does the "resurrect...again" combination imply redundancy? I digress.) just to give up halfway and hide in a corner for two years before continuing the fucking (pardon moi unpolished French) blog again?!

It's a goddamned fucking vicious cycle, this blogging thing. It's like an addiction which feeds the individual, and when the poor sap finally divorces himself from the poison that is blogging, the villain gradually seduces the guy until finally...

...finally the guy restarts, resumes, resurrects...his blog.

Well, what the fuck, enjoy the ride while it's here, eh? So, what has been going on in this blogger's life since the last entry?

A lot, or a little, depending on your outlook of life. It swings both ways, very fucking subjective. Not my sexuality, you fucking twat! I meant the part about "a lot" or "a little" happened in my life since my last post.

I finally finished my tertiary education, earning a measly second class upper degree as opposed to first class honours ("honors" for all you Yanks). So I'm not too fucking depressed, I don't blame myself for the dismal educational performance. I just simply don't fucking care much anymore. As long as I get my fucking degree and get a job.

Well, I did complain a bit when the results came out, something to the extent of:

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS? THE LECTURERS DUNNO HOW TO MARK AH? FUCKERS! MOTHERFUCKING LECTURERS READ SI PIN ONE AH? MY ANSWERS SO FUCKING TERRER OSO THEY GIVE MARKS LIKE ASSHOLE-SCRAPED SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK??????"

Ahhh, that was cathartic. In the metaphorical sense, of course. I didn't mean shitting or puking all over the place literally. What? You don't know what cathartic means? Dumbass.

And then I got myself a job. Damned stressful as hell, but if I start describing my work, they'll most probably fire me so I can't discuss my work in detail because I need the dough to survive and if they realise that I've been naughty by tell-y tell-y about my work (which is confidential, but then again, what line of work isn't?) in my blog-gy blog-gy, I'll get stomped-y stomped-y by their feet-y feet-y and I'll be out of a job-by job-by unless I can confuse them with long-y long-y sentences like this that make (mostly, anyway) no sense at all because then they'd get all confused and die like flies stuck to flypaper that attempt to free themselves from the sticky flypaper by heaving-ho, heaving-ho, their pathetic little legs until they either die of exhaustion of die because they've ripped their fucking legs apart and they're now bleeding to death, die, DIE, FUCKING GODDAMNED PISS OFF AND DROP FUCKING DEAD.

Cathartic. Like letting loose after months of constipation in an unending fountain of shit.

People I Hate

2005-05-11T15:40:00.000+08:00

Okay, venting time.... You know, I hate some people. And usually when I hate a person, it's with good reason. At least to me, it's with good reason. Some people piss me off with their attitude. I dunno why, I can't explain it, but one look at some people and something in me just triggers... Can't pinpoint my dislike to any rational reason, it just ticks me off to see some people...

And then there are people who earn places in my Hall of Hate because of solid reasons. They either did something that betrayed me, or they did something that was totally contrary to my own set of ethics and principles (ethics?! principles?! I hear you say...). Like recently, when a guy pissed me off with his actions... I dislike him now, although what he did was quite subtle, and I don't know him that well.

Bloody motherfucker!

He was one of my group members for an assignment. We had postponed the discussion of the assignment to five days before the due date. He had the fucking audacity to postpone it even further -- twice!! -- but my other group members and I had done it before his proposed discussion date. What really really really pissed me off was that he declined to present our assignment, although we had done 80% (yes, I daresy we did 80-fucking-goddamned-percent!) of the work.

I don't mind being the one presenting; no sweat, I LIKE presenting... it gives me total power and makes me feel superior... but come the fuck on... it's the whole principal of the goddamn thing.

Know what I mean?

SO FUCK HIM!

My New Girlfriend

2005-05-03T16:51:00.000+08:00

This is announcing that I have a new girlfriend...this post is just to impress her...haha. Will post more about her in future posts. Just before I go, just gotta say: I LOVE YOU, JULIAN... You know who you are.

Over and out.

My Past Works aka Ramblings

2005-03-10T14:12:00.000+08:00

Dredged up my old writings... These were from wayyyy past, and they reflect a more "fiery" me, I guess. More coming up...

1/11/2004 1625
It's kinda scary because I seem to have lots of controversial opinions in the past, which seemed to have been shut down by something or someone as I grew older in age. I just read some pretty controversial shit (well, controversial in a relatively conservative environment such as in Malaysia) I wrote about two or three years ago. I have to admit, I was pretty vocal and opinionated in what I wrote, taking the "if-you-don't-agree-with-me-then-fuck-you" style of writing. That piece was about religions, philosophies, and mutual respect. I find it kinda weird because when I re-read it two years (or three) later, I seemed to have a feeling of reverent awe for myself. That reverent awe feeling is usually reserved for someone whom I truly respect because of his/her style, opinion, or methods of executing something. Certainly not reserved for a more fiesty "me" that existed two (or three) years ago.

Man, what would Freud say? Haha.

But maybe that's just it. I guess lots of people lose fire when they grow older with age. Fuck, I was so full of youth (as opposed to "teen", heh) angst a few years ago that whatever was on my mind I just had to put it in words that seemed so arrogant, so... descriptive, shall we say. Or maybe I was just full of it. A juvenile train of thought that says "fuck you" to the world and the world laughs back at that individual, knowing full well that the individual knows jack shit about what he has written about. I'm not very good at metaphors, so fuck you. Haha.

But seriously, I have to ask myself, although it might seem a little unusual to ask myself in an article that nobody will ever read, have I really lost my fire, my opinions, that I had several years ago? You see, I have this theory that as we get older, we develop a type of herd mentality that causes us to follow what the majority do, that causes us to gradually abandon our own opinions and follow blindly what others are doing. Maybe as we mellow through time, we realise that somehow, our opinions don't count anymore, as if what what we had believed in so many years ago was just not real, not in sync with the laws of the universe. We would be content to agree wholeheartedly with whatever the prevailing thoughts of the day were, completely in denial of what we had believed in earlier, even though those two thoughts clashed.

Of course, shit happens in life that just change our perceptions and opinions from time to time. I know I've been a lot of ups and downs through life, and those experiences change and shape my opinions and principles constantly. Hey, you have the right to call me an unprincipled person, but I don't fucking care. Or at least I think I don't... Recently, I've been asking myself, "Do I care what other people think about me?". You see, several years ago, if you had asked me that same question, I would have proudly, and with nary a hint of hesitation, said "fuck you, of course not", and proceed to give you a kick in your balls. Well, maybe not the kick, but definitely the "fuck you".

Now... now I'm not so fucking sure. I mean, I THINK not, but I FEEL otherwise. I'm certainly more wary of my own behaviour now, more aware of those little things I do that might seem CRAZY to other people. So does that mean I really mind how other people perceive me now? I'm confused. Maybe it's hormonal imbalance or some shit like that. I dunno. I haven't touched science for some time now.

But somehow I've remained the same "occasionally incomprehensible madman" that I was several years ago. I might have mellowed down on my conspiracy-theory-ultraextreme-violence-ultraincomprehensible-babbling-SOB persona that I adopted several years back, but some people that I know now do sometimes find me weird, bizarre, incomprehensible, crazy, or any combination of these traits, or all of these traits. I make incomprehensible jokes. I make complex conversations. I do things that ridicule others, sometimes even myself, in public, so much so that my friends stay away. I throw sudden temper tantrums. I say certain hard-to-understand academic shit that I'd read several hours ago. See? Some things never change. In essence, I'm still the same me, I guess.

That's why not all people I meet can stand me, and I just have a select few good friends. I'm not like some people who just seem to click with everybody. Some people have even called me antisocial. Which is true, to a certain extent.

One thing that I seem to be losing as I grow older is the ability to write engaging, systematic articles. I discover, when I compare my writings from different "eras" in my life, that I seem to be more fluid in my writing when I was younger. Of course, fluidity in writing does not mean fluidity in ideas. My ideas and points might be scattered all over the fucking place when I was a 12 year old kid writing stuff, but at least my vocabulary, my style, was never scattered. I had control of my vocab, of my style. Now? Man, sometimes I think for the right word for several minutes without success! I used to contribute my opinions to the newspapers when I was younger, and my letters almost always got published. I recently sent a letter to Star lambasting (kind of) my university and until now, three weeks after I e-mailed it, it hasn't been published. I used to be proud of the fact that I could churn out a well-thought out letter in a matter of hours, and it almost always will get published. This particular letter that I wrote several weeks ago took me TWO WEEKS! Damn, talk about old age catching up!

Maybe it has got something to do with my somewhat inconsistent writing attempts. You see, I had not been writing constantly over the years, especially between the periods of my graduating from PUO until... err... now. Before that, I had a neat little cyber-platform (not to mention a connection to the Net from my home) where I could share words with my secondary school friends. Somehow, three of these cyber-platforms demanded dough from the users, and, getting tired of the whole "big corporation wants little money for our services" mentality, we just said "fuck you" to these cyber-platforms. I hadn't been writing like this ever since. Not for lack of trying, though. I tried. Many times. I tried to begin short stories. I always stopped halfway. Never had the confidence, idea, inspiration, or guts to finish them. Dunno why, though. I enjoy reading other people's words, and I think I have synthesised my own writing style, but somehow I just felt that my own ideas, my own words, are cliched and not good enough.

Fuck. I reckon that when I read all this shit that I have written, I would be saying that word. FUCK! Or, in Stephen King style, F-UUUUUUU-CCCCC--KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!
Heh. Gonna take a break now. 1710.

8/11/2004 1633 Wow, a gap of six days and I'm still feeling lazy and uninspired. I always wonder how acclaimed authors who have millions and millions of bucks keep it up. Their ideas and books, I mean. Where the hell do they get the inspiration? Even if they get inspiration, there must exist a special kind of vocabulary, grammatical, and in general, semantical skill to weave a good story, I guess. I devoured everything (well, almost) from classics to cheesy magazine articles in the past, but now I always find it a chore to even finish reading a short story. I'm pretty sure that my sense of appreciation for other people's works has decreased, but I can't figure out why or how. Goddamn it!

I used to churn out spectacular (in my opinion, anyway) short stories when I was in secondary school, mainly to prepare for the SPM 1119 English paper. The continuous writing section of the exam meant that we had to concoct stories to prove our mastery of the language. The essay questions typically involved several types. My favourite type would be the "given this opening" or the "given this ending" types. An opening paragraph or a closing paragraph would be given, and the candidates would be requested to fill in the rest of the story, in parellel with the given opening/closing paragraph.

I used to conjure up what I termed "twisty" stories, often taking the liberty to include vulgar (by our standards) words such as "damn" or "shit". Yes, I had often been reprimanded by my teachers for doing that. But the main gist is, I was adept at this stuff, Whether it was a narrative (often in the first-person view) or a descriptive story, I tried to inject all kinds of stuff in my story. I remember distinctly three stories I had written, which stuck in me until now because of their originality and effectiveness in execution. I just wish I had that in me nowadays. I even wrote a violent story in my actual 1119 exam, which earned me a glittering A1 grade...

Up until two or three years ago, I still had "it". Somehow I gained a Band Six for my MUET examination. No fucking easy feat, as it required someone (*ahem*) with near-perfect mastery of the English language to obtain that kind of result. Mind you, in that particular batch, only 60-odd candidates IN THE WHOLE OF MALAYSIA obtained Band Six.

Contrast then with now, and I feel depressed. *Sigh* 1647

New Site?

2005-02-24T20:21:00.000+08:00

Welcome to LIFE SUCKS!, my newest blog site! What the fuck am I doing here, trying to create and maintain a blog, even I myself don't know. I have a blog lesewhere, at http://consequence.pitas.com, but I have long since abandoned it, because of time constraints and little working knowledge about HTML scripts/coding/whatever the fuck you call it.

So here I am, starting yet another blog, which I hope (and HOPE is certainly the operative word here!) I'll be able to maintain by posting regularly. I don't hope (HOPE! FUCK HOPE!) to attract many (or any) visitors to my little blogspot here; just treating it as a means of unloading any crap I can think of.

So there.