Thursday, April 8, 2010


A few Sundays ago I went to church. I'd been doing this with my friends as much as we could, but that Sunday I mentioned was special. It was the first time I went by myself. It's not really the church thing that's a big deal, it's more about what I'm able to do now.

Back at home, I could go places further than one would care to admit so it goes without saying that coming to a new country felt like erasing my personal map - or rather, hiding it and using a new piece of parchment for a new journey. When I first came to Malaysia, everything was so foreign to me. Everything was blurred, I could walk five steps forward and feel lost already. Crossing the road felt backwards - literally.The first few weeks were the hardest, of course. Walking around with no idea where you're headed nor coming from. I don't believe that it was luck that kept me alive, I think it was more on my paranoia. Being extra careful with every turn, looking over my shoulder for any unknown predators lurking, etc.

I felt proud that I made it to church in one piece, it's far from near my place of residence. It even involves a 10 minute bus ride. Being capable of going that far by myself gave me a sense that I was getting to know this place better - I felt more accustomed.

Everything went pretty smoothly, now that I think about it. I didn't encounter any obstacles, I didn't come across any potential hazards, but there was one pinch at the end. As I sat down after the tiring walk and getting on a bus of which it's destination I had no clue of, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was then that the sermon began - in Chinese.

So I sat there for about an hour or so, oblivious to any lesson the priest was trying to send to me. It was embarrassing, having to stay quiet through the songs. Mumbling gibberish to myself when the priest gave the cue for a response.

When all is said and done, I didn't hate that day. It turned out to be a huge learning experience for myself. Now I'm even more prepared for anything.

Sunday Usual

Thursday, March 11, 2010

My Day

I wish mornings happened later in the day. I know, thats a stupid thought - I have my own reasons. Everybody has their own clock. Mine is a lot different than the standard clocks you see. My clock does not involve a morning, afternoon and evening. I'm awake when I wake, and I sleep when my mind and body call for it. My clock has no specific alloted time for meals, or for baths, not even for school sometimes. Though I follow my own time, there are parts of that day that I favor.

Mornings would have to be the winner. Theres something about mornings that I just love. I think it's everything. The way the perfect shade of light casts down on you, giving warmth - not heat. The way the birds chirp, seeming to want to tell the world of the new day. The way it triggers memories from my childhood, when breakfast was the number one priority. Especially, the way everything looks. Everything in the morning just glows, and its beautiful to me. Unfortunately, one of the things I really hate doing is waking up. When I connect the dots, Mornings mean waking up, and its just a conflict of emotion.

I wish mornings happened later in the day because usually I just sleep through it. My favorite time of the day spent in my bed in a dark cold room. I wake up at Noon - which is definitely my least favorite part of the day. I've got nothing against the sun or anything like that, but at this time of the day, its just too focused and seemingly angry. Directly overhead, gazing at you as it bombards you with beam after beam of blinding, burning sunlight. It's just not my thing.

Afternoons, I can deal with - I favor those windy kinds. I like afternoons because they also trigger memories for me. When I think of afternoons, I automatically remember home; watching TV, having an afternoon snack, taking naps. I just wish I appreciated it more back then. I guess its true that you don't know what you have until its gone. Sunsets are definitely the most emotional time of the day for me. Emotional because I find sunsets very majestic and meaningful. I love watching it but every time I see the sun go down, I feel like I've wasted another day. And it doesn't help that after the sunset, total darkness just comes along. I have nothing against the night, its just that I find it hard to find the right mood in dark lighting.

The night is the time when I am most active. It's been like that ever since the transition from my high school days to my bum days, which lasted a good seven months. If my personal clock would ever be displayed on a visual level, the night time would probably resemble the time alloted for brunch until dinner. It's very calming, the night. Cool breeze, dark surroundings - the absolute perfect environment for doing nothing. Needless to say, what I look forward to the most during night time is the moon. I mean, literally look forward to. I really believe that moonlight is magical in many ways. I know it's just a reflection of the suns rays, but somewhere along becoming a reflection, they become magical. It feels healing and soothing to stand under moonlight to me. On nights I go out, I always try to find the moon. I just can't help looking at that big rock floating in the sky. On nights I can't sleep, I just stare at the moon. I could stare at it all night and still not get tired of it. Looking at that glow, I can't help but to picture it as a silver coin, just waiting to be taken from midair.

Boredom = Deep Thinking

Today, I thought about how not having thumbs would make life so much more complicated. Then I realized how bored I was - when you're having fun, your mind doesn't really just bring up random thoughts like that. After realizing I was bored, I realized I was slacking. How can I find time to be bored when I have all this schoolwork to do? I only realized I only have 8 posts on this blog when I need 15 by next month (not that this is going to be a problem, its just minor speed bump.) but 'Bored' is a luxury I cannot afford right now.

I can't begin to comprehend how fast life seems to come at me sometimes. I guess thats the pace you have to keep up with in order to not get left behind in this world. If thats the case, I'm gonna have to get in shape because its too damn fast for me. Sure, occasionally I get a break but that break isn't all that relieving. It just gives me more time to stress about what I have to do once the said break is over with.

This afternoon, when I thought about all these things and how I was going to accomplish them, I felt a little twinge on my left temple. That ever so familiar little pop that I always fear of dealing with. It was a sign, my brain was warning me that I had an hour or so to get somewhere safe because that little twinge determined the onset of a killer headache. I could feel it taking over slowly, as I lay down on my bed. It crept up all over my head, feeling like it was blanketing my cranium. I hate headaches, its like life is attacking the one place where I can have peace and quiet, where my pool of imagination lies.

I woke up a few hours afterward. Thankfully, I had rested just in time to prevent the full effect of this mental fissure. I figured I had a lot on my mind, and I wasn't expressing it enough - that was the exact moment that I remembered about this blog. I remember the way it made me express myself through the pushing of several buttons in combinations and sequences to form words, sentences, and paragraphs on this virtual screen and share it with the world wide web. Is anybody reading? I don't care, its a creative outlet and I'm gonna use it. I like writing - its one of the things I can be confident about doing and there aren't a whole lot of things I'm confident at.

In the end, life is still going to keep moving forward, day by day. It won't care if I give up on myself, or if I get an achievement for being the best student ever. My life is what I make of it - that, I'm sure of. Life goes on, and so do I.