* Hoping for a Change

There was a birthday being held at a bar on this Wednesday night. I had come back from a long day at work and wanted some much needed sleep to fuel myself for the following morning of scheduled employment. I was in no mood to be heading out tonight, but I forced myself to grudge through the routine of getting ready to go out, doing so while half asleep. An event on a Wednesday work night is unusual for me. I wanted to do something different, secretly hoping for (maybe even needing) a change. Maybe it would lead to something different happening in my predictable routine. Maybe I'd meet someone who's going to have some meaningful impact on my life. I didn't want to miss out on a chance on 'maybe'.

So, I went. And that was it. There was no change. Just a night out. A nice night out nonetheless, but one that will have no significant effect on the rest of my coming days. I know that tomorrow will be exactly the same as yesterday, with no progress between the two. Tonight made no changes, but it was different. And that should hold me over, at least for tonight.

* Who are you?

There has been an insurgence of Facebook quizzes that accurately determine what kind of person you are. And by 'accurate', I mean it tells you your closest equivalent in various (and questionably scientific) topics. People are flooding the news feed with their results of what type of Vampire/Superhero/Greek God/Pokemon/Vacuum Cleaner are you? It's gotten out of hand. Seriously people, just be yourselves!

* Lip Balm

I have learnt a very valuable lesson. Do not put your mini glue stick next to your lip balm, not unless you want your lips to be all sticky and your documents all glossy.

* Nostalgia

If you know me, or have been following my blog for some time, then you would know that I am a huge John Mayer fan. This post isn't about his music, but of this video clip he posted up on youtube. It's a small side reel of his trip to Japan. I just love the atmospheric tone that this clip conveys.



I had also gone on a trip to Japan almost 2 years ago. And watching the above clip reminded me of those dormant memories. I remember the hustle and bustle of the Japanese city night life, but what stuck with me most on that trip were actually the places where tourists didn't usually go. The places that gave me quiet moments.

Walking down a quiet street in a suburban town. Climbing up an empty set of steps with the sound of a waterfall around the corner. Looking outside the bullet train as rows of rice fields and traditional Japanese homes sweep by.

The quiet allowed me to take in all the new sights without the distraction of others. My eyes wondered, and my mind went with it.

I've started to do the same back here at home. There's something about staring out the window of a moving car, bus or train. Every time, I notice something new on the same trip. A different house, a winding bike track, someone tending the garden. I always wonder about the people living in those houses, or using those tracks, or even tending to their flowers. How on earth did they end up there? Out of all places they could've been, they ended up where they are, just like how I ended up where I am. It's in these quiet moments where I try to take in everything I see and just wonder.

Back in Japan, I took one of the local train lines to Miyajima Island. There was an elderly man on the same train sitting across from me. He had noticed that I was speaking English in quite a strange accent. He asked me about it (in surprisingly good english himself). That's when I told him I was from Australia, hence my different English accent. That's when he started telling me about he's story. He was a farmer going through a bit of a rough time with growing crops in the current season. I asked him how he learnt English, and it turned out he had taught himself. He had never even been out of Japan, yet he chose to learn a different language. The conversation was short lived as he got off the train about 10 minutes later. It's not the kind of conversation I'd ever forget, yet I know that, just like thousands of other faceless strangers, I would never see this inquisitive man ever again.

With all these window observations while alone with my inquiring mind, I sometimes get a bit lost in it all. It's in times like these that I can't help but wonder, with the world as big as it is, where do I fit in all of this? I think I'll figure that out one day.

Sarcasm

I, like many of the disheartened and soul-drained youth, have mastered the art of sarcasm. Sarcasm is said to be the lowest form of wit. Now that can't be true, because I use sarcasm all the time and that would imply tha...oh wait a minute...FUUUUU-!

People think I'm sarcastic all the time, but it's not that. I just seem to have a really monotone voice, making it really difficult for people to know if I'm serious or joking most of the time. This can sometimes work in my favour when I make a joke that noone laughs at. I can just play it off as though what I said was a serious comment. And you may be saying "I bet you bomb out with your jokes all the time, right?" And let me tell you, that is definitely not-true and never happens! Well maybe not definitely never...more like mostly never. OK, let's say "kinda" not-true, in the sense that truth is a relative thing depending on wher...Yes, it happens all the time.

But it especially backfires when I'm meeting new people who have yet to become accustom to by sarcastic-monotone speaking patterns. They often mistake my jokes for seriousness, and my seriousness for derogatory sarcasm.

 

90% of the time, I am sarcastic. 89% of the time, people think that I am serious. Let me paint a specific scenario for you. I was going through the Maccas drive thru. After I ordered my meal, I drove around the bend to find that another car was driving thru in the wrong direction. Since the drive thru was obviously only narrow enough for one car, the driver (who may or may not be of Asian orientation) realised his mistake with the directional help of the McDonald's staff and reversed his way out of there.

After the insane driver cleared way, I proceeded to roll towards the pick-up window. The Mcdonalds cashier who had just witnessed the bizarre incident finally took her gaze off the reversing car and looked back at me. Thinking that I was funny, I decided to sarcastically say to her "I think you need to widen the drive through".

Without any kind of reaction, she blankly looked back at me, and dryly said "Oh no, we don't have to. That guy was just driving the wrong way."

I had made a sarcastically and obviously ridiculous comment, but she responded as though what I said was a serious suggestion. She also added the obvious detail of "that guy was just driving the wrong way", to reinforce why my suggestion would not be a viable form of traffic control.

I have learnt that Sarcasm can be a cruel, cruel burden to have. But it can make for some very interesting stories that I hope you guys enjoy to read.

Reader: "Wow, your blog is really funny!"

Me: "REALLY???"

Reader: "...No"

* Crunch Time

Hey, I know I haven't been posting anything in the past week, but I'm afraid it will continue that way for the next 2 weeks or so. My finals are coming up and I really need to spend as much time as I can hunkering down to study.

This is my current studying habitat. That completely disorganised mess holds all the information I need to pass these upcoming exams. As you can see, I have everything under control...

I might post up a couple of mini updates here and there, but I'll most likely won't have enough time to post up proper posts. So why not read up some old posts and just pretend that they're new/funny. Here's one that I wrote a year and a half ago after I had finished my exams back then. It seems like such a long time ago.

Well time for me to get back to studying (which comprises of 10% of reading, and 90% of praying to every religion out there for mercy). And to you all, whatever it is you're doing for the next couple of days, good luck!

Social Interactions

Me: Oh, Hiiiiiiii! How are you??
Person: ...do I know you?
Me: ...no...you just looked really friendly =(
Person: *stab in the face*

Greeting people can be awkward when you've only met the person (briefly) once before. You might've seen them at some social gathering where they were the friend of a friend of someone's long lost cousin's pet. So you know of them, but that's as far as it goes.

Then comes the second encounter with this person. You make eye contact from a distance, which is when the mind games begin. The first thing you try to figure out is "Do I know this person well enough to say hello?" You go for it anyway and try to say hi, but you're greeting goes unnoticed as the person has turned in the opposite direction the exact same moment you opened your mouth. The failed greeting attempt is then further hindered by various other people conversing with the person you tried to say hello to.

So that's the end of that phase. There's a time limit between when you first make eye contact (which means both parties have acknowledged each other) to when you actually say hi to the person that you've barely met once before. Leave that gap too long, and it's too late to say hello, or else it'd just be awkward. So once that time limit is reached, the next phase begins where you pretend you don't know each other. This involves the avoidance of all eye contact, even if you are in close proximity to the person, your line of sight must not meet in order for the level of awkwardness to not escalate.

Instructional picture follows:

This whole process is called "I know you, and I know you know me, but I'm not gonna say hi and I know you aren't either, so I'm gonna pretend to not know you and I know that you're gonna pretend to not know me." This doesn't only apply to people you've only met briefly before. It also applies to:
     * people you haven't seen in a long time and have no intention of reconnecting on any social level
     * people you know you won't be able to sustain a conversation with (VERY important to employ the avoid-all-eye-contact rule when you know it would otherwise result in an awkward hour long train ride home)
     * distant family members who don't speak English
     * people whom you owe money to
     * Peter (you know why, you arsehole!)

Then there's that awkward conversation situation that involves you, a friend, and a friend of that friend. Let me explain with the aid of this diagram.

So in this diagram I am person C, my friend is person B, and person B knows person A (whom I have never met before). B has a conversation with A (represented by the red arrows) which I am left out of. This is only one aspect of the awkwardness. At some point in the red conversation, B mentions something about me to A.

B: Hey, do you know this guy (referring to me) does engineering too.
A: (looks at me, but then turns to B) Oh yeah, what major does he do?

Let me explain what just happened there. B just introduced me into the conversation. A acknowledges me and has questions (represented by the grey broken arrow), but instead of conversing along that grey path, he continues the conversation along the red arrows, which only end up at B. B then repeats exactly everything A just said to me (via the blue conversation arrows). I could, at this point, create a solid conversation path to A, but because it was B who asked me the question (even though on A's behalf), I am socially obliged to reply to him via the blue conversation. B then relays exactly everything I said to A. This awkward conversational echo continues as B continues to mediate between me and A until the conversation goes on to another topic where I am once again left out of the red. Awkward.

This also happens when you order at the drive-thru at McDonalds. The Driver, the Passenger and the Cashier are all in hearing distance of each other. But the conversation nevertheless must proceed like this:

C: Hi, how may I help you?

D: Hi, can I get a big mac please.

C: Would you like anything else?

D (to Passenger): What do you want?

P: A cheeseburger

D (to Cashier, even though she perfectly heard him): A cheeseburger

C: Do you want chips with that?

D (to Passenger, even though he perfectly heard her): Do you want chips with that?

P: Yeah

D: Yeah

C: What size chips do you want?

D: What size chips do you want?

P: Medium will do

D: Medium will do

C: That'll be $10.50

D: That's $10.50

P (to D): That's a fucken rip off! I'm not paying that!

D (to C): ....well, you heard him.

* KeepOnWriting

I have all these ideas that I have in mind for future blog posts, but these ideas are more like bullet points vaguely swirling around in my head, and I don't seem to have the time lately to put these ideas down into well constructed sentences and paragraphs.

It usually takes a couple of weeks from the idea popping into my head to me actually typing it all down into an entry. Those thoughts would usually just 'stay' in there 'till I bothered to write it all up. But lately I've started writing them all down into...well, I would call it a diary, but that just sounds gay. I'll just call it a book.

The first page was written when I was thinking of writing about sixbillionsecrets. The second page was written while I was on the train. 

As you can see, the pages are nonsensical and all over the place, which evidently means I'm the only one that'll be able to understand it. This book/journal/gay diary isn't secretive or anything. Most of the stuff I write in here will end up on this blog in its complete form some time in the future. I just needed somewhere to write down my thoughts before they get lost in the already crowded head of mine. And that's how I came to title this book "KeepOnWriting"

OK, not everything in this book will be about future blog posts. I also use it to draw rough sketches of things that I want to draw up when I have free time. This page here illustrates how much I want an electric guitar! Particularly the Fender Standard Strat. The cheapest one I've found goes for $809. And I want it, I want it, I want it, I want it! I could easily afford it and was actually thinking of spoiling myself this christmas. But I think I'll hold off this year and instead get myself a decent steel string guitar instead. I haven't been playing the guitar long enough to warrant a full fledged electric machine.



The moment I wanted a Strat was when I saw this video clip. The guitar work in this is so in your face, but in a melancholy way. It's subtle throughout the song, but it guides you through the entire lyrics (which in itself have a huge impact) until it picks up for the crazy guitar solo around the 3:40 mark where the emotional impact just sky rockets. For the 2 minute solo, it sounds like the guitar is really crying and...man...it's just so awesome.

* Saw 3D

Just went to watch Saw 3D. What I saw in Saw was really....such an eye sore. I saw people getting sawed, which sure made my adrenaline soar, as what I saw in Saw sure made me sore in places where the people were getting sawed. I sure wish I never saw what I saw in Saw. What I saw in Saw was, for sure, one of the worst thing I've ever saw, but sure not as bad as when I saw Jersey Shore. I also wish I didn't fall off that see-saw (totally unrelated incident, but the fall sure made me sore)

SixBillionSecrets

If you ever heard of it, there's this site where people post up stories of themselves. It's called sixbillionsecrets. It's where people go, usually anonymously, to post up some of their secrets. Most of these secrets are quite full on, showing how people feel of what they're going through.

When I first found this site, I was so compelled to read through every single secret that had been posted up, seeing all the insecurities and hard times those people were/are enduring. Even though they were all anonymous, it felt like they were showing their most inner self with the world. Maybe it was because they were anonymous that they were able to share what they really are inside, without ever telling anyone who they are.

But then I started thinking about the people who reading through the same secrets as me. What do the readers feel. Do they relate? Empathy, or maybe sympathy?

"There are people with worst problems out there, so you shouldn't worry." It's what we've been told at some point in our lives, and there are even some people who live by that. And of course, hearing messed up stories does put things into perspectives, but we can only experience these stories from the outside looking in. Our own experiences are the only thing we can truly base everything on, and because of this, and the fact that we can only ever really view other people's lives from the outside looking in, it creates a disconnect. We're able to take other people's lives into account, and even though what you feel at your worst might not be as bad as what someone else is feeling, it is the worst that YOU have ever felt, and sometimes you're own feelings overrule any empathy you might feel for others. It's selfish, but it's human.

There are so many stories on sixbillionsecrets, all completely messed up in so many different ways than I could ever imagine. And even though they're all different, I think there is an underlining feeling that they are share - loneliness. Their pain is not only from the problems they're going through, but that they're going through it alone. And eventually, it's this loneliness that becomes a problem in itself. And I think that's why people post up on that site, not to gain any sympathy because of their problems, but to feel less alone - to feel connected. It's impossible for us to understand someone else's situation, but we can relate to the feelings that these situations evoke. It's not a competition to see who's going through a shittier time than another. If anything, it's about reaching out and hoping that someone out there understands and acknowledges the emotions we're going through. And that's what we all really want, to feel connected with someone else, so that whatever is happening in our lives, we don't feel like we're going at it alone.

I use to think that there were people who needed help, and those that were giving it. But it's not that simple. Everyone needs help in their own way, don't they? But they're also able to give help as well. Helping others might not help out our own problems, but what it does is bring us closer to someone else, breaking down that underlining feeling of loneliness. It's nice to lean on someone who's leaning on you too.

Well that's what I think sixbillionsecrets is all about. It might mean something different to you when you read through it, but to me, it's all about knowing whatever is happening, you're definitely not the only one feeling that way. So like Philosopher Efron once said, "We're all in this together"

Imagination on Fire

This post is dedicated to a good friend of mine who had her birthday last Saturday. She's a really talented drawer. Actually one of the most realistic sketchers I've ever seen and she easily puts anything I draw to shame. But she's recently been too busy with uni and hasn't drawn in over a year, and I thought that that was such a waste that she would let her talent slip away like that. I think it's a shame if anyone let's go of a certain part of their talents due to lack of time, whether it be drawing, playing a musical instrument, professionally or even as a hobby.

So my present to her was a couple of art supplies and this artbook, which I hope would motivate her to draw again. I would love to see her complete that book one day, but because she is quite busy, I thought I'd help her out by filling out the first page for her.

Happy Birthday Libby

* Train Ticket, Part 2

Carrying on from my previous post. I had forgotten to withdraw from my debit card the day before, which had caused me to be in the current predicament (I figured I would type a smart word that I would never say in real life) I had found myself in. So after wasting time watching the train's doors open and close for what seemed like enough time for me to make enough sandwiches for a small Asian family, I turned to the ticket operator window to see that I could've used my debit card on their EFTPOS machine. The next train wouldn't arrive to the station for another half hour and I was already too late for uni as it was, so I resigned for the day and went home.

The following week, I found myself in the exact same circumstances. 2 minutes left, dashed across the bridge, onto the platform, ran to the automated ticket machine, punched in my destination, then whipped out my wallet only to find that I was, once again, monetarily lacking. Learning from the previous week's mishap, I quickly turned to the ticket operator with my debit card in hand.

Me:  "Hi, can I get a return ticket to Central, please."
T.O.:  "Yep, that'll be 7 dollars."
Me:  "I'll be using EFTPOS"
T.O.:  "Sorry, EFTPOS is only 10 dollars minimum."
What I said:  "....oh...."
What I should've said:  "...oh...can I get a return ticket to Central with large chips, please."

Needless to say, I did not make it to uni that day either (I was not going to waste an extra 3 dollars on a redundant ticket just so I would make it uni, a place where I spend 50 bucks an hour to sleep) . So lesson learned: always drive.

* Train Ticket, Part 1

I was on my normal Wednesday routine where I catch the 11 o'clock train to my uni. Normally I arrive there 15 minutes before the train comes, as I usually have to walk about 3 to 4 streets down from the closest parking spot I can find, then over a pedestrian bridge onto the platform, and if I miss this train, I would have to wait another half an hour for the next.

But on this particular morning, my poor time management skills and the overuse of the snooze button caused me to cut it pretty close. I got to the pedestrian bridge, and saw that I didn't have much time to beat the train. I only had a minute to get across the bridge and get myself a ticket. I made a mad dash up, around, then down the bridge to the other platform, and ran to the ticket machine seconds before the train got there. I punched in my destination just as the doors were slowly starting to open. With success so close, I whipped out my wallet, only find that I had no money. I could only stand there, for what seemed like all the time in the world, and watch the train drive away, taunting my current ticketless situation. Lesson learned: Don't try so hard.

How it Feels to be Free

* Why so Poor?

Why does money disappear quicker than we get them? It's like we have this false sense of security, coupled with youthful ignorance, when we find ourselves having a constant stream of income. So we always, naively, buy more than we're getting paid. The more we earn, the more we spend, the poorer we get.

Me: How much is this Mars bar?
Cashier: 6 dollars
Me: WHAT!? THAT'S A RIPOFF! I'll take 3.

* Mini

 

Sorry for not updating for the past 2 weeks, but I've been completely loaded  with assignments. I had 3 exams, an 8000 report, 2 assignments, a presen...

Random Reader: No one cares!

...oh, fair enough. Well anyway, I finally have some extra time to start blogging again. But I've realised that I still won't have enough time to write my posts as frequently as I would like. I also spoke to someone that use to read my blogs the other day, and they said that they've stopped reading it because it felt like they were reading essays. They also inferred that I was homosexual. My family can be so mean... Well anywho, as a result, I'm now going to post mini entries in between all my 'essay' ones. This will mean I'll be able to update my blog more regularly (like a good blogger should), while trying to please all the people who just want light reading and those who don't mind my long, random rants . (The length of this post itself is bordering in between what I consider a mini update and a proper one)

Starting from now, only my normal updates will be shamelessly plugged on facebook. My mini posts will be updated randomly, but more frequently, so you're just gonna have to check back every now and then to see what random junk I post up.

My first mini post is posted right after this one, and if you want to quickly read it, click this link [Why so Poor?]

...Did you click? 'cause it doesn't do anything lol, you idiot. But seriously, go read it.

Going up?

If someone told you to get inside a huge box, wait patiently while they close its lids, shuffle it around, re-open it, and it'll get you closer to where you need to be, would you do it? Well if you said no, think about it the next time you board an elevator. And if you said yes, you obviously weren't paying much attention in primary school when they were teaching you the safety of knowing "stranger danger!" and "you can't touch me there!"

 

I find it a little awkward waiting for elevators to open. It's like I press the 'up' button to call the elevator, but it's still stuck on its current floor. I then go to repeatedly mash the up button, thinking it would make the elevator notice me, but it's like the elevator just replies "Yeah, just wait man! Take a chill-pill while I meet and greet some peeps along the way between where you are and where I am currently at." I don't know why the elevators I imagine are ghetto, but I find them very rude.

Whenever an elevator is opening just as I arrive in the foyer, I immediately jump in. And when I say jump in, I mean I dive at the closing doors with my outstretched arms and retardedly try to pry it open with my finger tips. This causes the people waiting in the foyer to look at me like I'm some sort of crazy man. The person inside the elevator presses the 'open-door' button, but of course they always press it too late, and by the time the elevator opens up again, I've already looked like a zoo's baboon trying to scratch its way into a crate of coconuts. Of course, the doors are designed to open when it senses something between them, but in my mind, I just opened steel doors with my fingers. I'm bloody superman.

At this point, it's too late to ask the elevatoring commuters "is this going up?". I've already swan dived into the damn thing. I have to commit. And with my luck, most of the time the elevator goes in the opposite direction that I want. As it descends, people leave floor by floor, until there's only me and another person left in the elevator as it approaches the last floor. At the very bottom floor, the elevator opens up, and the other person walks out. Knowing it is the only floor left to get off, the guy looks back at me bewildered as to why I'm still in the elevator. All I can do is look back with an expression that says "I screwed up", and feel slightly stupid as the elevator goes back up. I shrug it off, and move on from the awkward situation. Until the elevator returns to the foyer level, and I feel the stares of the people who saw me babooning into the elevator, still inside the very same elevator. I have no idea who these strangers are, but I still feel deeply embarrassed.

This is just my own opinion from too much analysing of things I shouldn't, but I think that people only see themselves either on the way up or on the way down. We are never ever really 'in the moment'. I mean, we all experience 'moments', but upon reflection, we don't treat these experiences as isolated instances.  We compare it to moments that preceded it, moments we expect to come, and all the moments connected to the newly thought up ones. We're either on our way up, where we're looking forward to the promises of having more tomorrow, or on the way down where we're frantically clawing for the possessions of yesterday.

Even the thought of "going up" is still relative. Imagine a building where every floor is progressively better than the one below. We start off at level 5. Where this has been our level of "normal" for as long as we can remember, and all you want is to get higher and make your way to level 7. And then you're allowed to jump to level 8. Of course, you're ecstatic at first to have moved up. You're at a better place than you were yesterday. But over time, level 8 doesn't feel higher anymore. You get use to the surroundings of the 8th floor and eventually it becomes your new 'normal'. And then you're able to go to level 10. Ecstatic at first, but eventually the feeling of normalcy hits. You continually progress higher and higher until you find yourself stuck at a floor that you just can't get above. You're stagnated at the highest point you've ever been so far, but eventually, this becomes your new and only level of 'normal'. And eventually, normal won't be good enough anymore.

If you don't have anything to look forward to, then you'll be stuck. Change is inevitable, and if you can't go up, then, sooner or later, the only way for you would be down. Everyone knows what it's like to be on the way down, it sucks. I think the way to reverse the trend is to have a reason to believe, a promise, or have the hope that tomorrow will be better than your yesterday. I'm not saying that people are always wanting more and are never happy. What I'm saying is that you can be happy, but still want more at the same time. Good enough is should never be what we're aiming for. I think happiness is the continual act of knowing you have something to look forward to.

I've actually had the general concept of this blog entry in my head for the last couple of weeks, but I've never known how to end it to reflect where I stand on this whole "up or down" trend. And if I had written this 2 days ago, or anytime before that, I think I would've ended it on quite a gloomy note. I mean, nothing has really changed, I still feel I've been idle on a floor that I've been wanting to get off of for such a long time, and there doesn't seem to be any indication that I'm gonna be moving up anytime soon. But, for the first time for as long as I can remember, and for absolutely no reason at all, I am hopeful.

=)

* Why so busy?

Sorry I haven't been updating as frequently as I would like, but I am currently drowning in all my assignments right now. I have an online assessment due this midnight, I have another assignment due on Thursday, and an 8000 word report due on Friday. Next week (which is the week my "holiday" is suppose to start) I have an mid semester exam on Monday, a Lab session on Wednesday, and another mid sem on Friday. And I am currently sick. But no matter, as you can see from the picture which represents my upcoming fortnight, I am completely handling everything.

There's always that point in the semester where, up until then you think "I got this uni thing all under control", and then, out of nowhere, you're screwed. Deadlines like to be hidden when it's all the way down the calendar, but when it has you in shouting distance it likes to surprise rape you from behind. Pain in the ass.

Okay, I know I've said that I'm against updates that recount day-to-day, but bear with me. Last Saturday I went to a dress up birthday party. The theme was "groups", i.e. you could dress up as anything you want, as long as you were in some sort of duo/trio/quartet/fivetet/sixpaloo/etc. I dressed as one of the MIB. I even made my own ID card.

My new driver's Licence

Despite how it looks, I actually put a lot of effort into that. Even though I had my costume prepared, I realised that I didn't have any friends that would dress up the same as me. I also realised that I didn't have any friends. So I decided to make one. Literally.

He's like a friend, but better...because he can't leave you...but he can melt in water though, that dumb idiot

Anyway, I am really swamped! I'm rushing to get everything completed, I shouldn't even be doing an update, but all of you are just too damn cool. So I'll go back to proper posting in about 2 weeks time. So why not just read old posts and pretend they're new..and funny. So until then, come back for me? Please? I LOVE YOU ALL!!! (except for one of you. YOU know who you are! (kidding...bitch (sorry...(spaghetti!!!))))

I want...

Just came back from cousin's wedding not that long ago. It might have had something to do with the candle lit backdrops and the amount of booze that I consumed, but seeing two people get lost in each other's teary gaze as if they were the only two people in the room, knowing that they had found the person of their dreams. I know I'm sounding super corny, but it sure was...something...And it really got me thinking.

By no means am I just gonna rush out and just try to find someone to call my own. I'm not gonna be with someone, just for the sake of being with someone. But it still makes me wonder about those days where I give up going out to the city at night, and instead opt to stay home to catch up on those last minute assignments. What if, by not going, I missed out on meeting the girl of my dreams (if there even is such a thing)? Then I realise that that girl isn't going to be clubbing at 3a.m. Even if she is, I wouldn't want her to chat up a stranger, in this case me. I want someone who'll have the time of her life, while being contained when it comes to sleazy advances by randoms. I want someone who can catch my attention, and actually be able to keep it. I want someone who likes bands, but doesn't love them to the point where she won't listen to anything else. I want someone who can make me feel like what I'm doing is worth a lot, yet at the same time not enough, making me want to constantly improve on who I was yesterday.  I want someone who can say to me "Hey, how 'bout you hang out with your boys tonight while I hang out with my girls." I want someone who's waiting for me to call her, but is too stubborn to call me herself. I want someone who wants to be with me, but doesn't need to be with me. I want someone who'll not necessarily complete my list, but make me forget I even had one in the first place.

This girl of my dreams is, most likely, right now with her boyfriend, albeit a lame boyfriend. And she's already starting to know that he's lame. Probably a nice guy for her to be around, but no interest or sparks are happening between the two. And I want her to be with her lame boyfriend for now, so it gives her something to contrast me against when/if she finally meets me.

I want...I want...I just want to go to sleep for now...I'm tired, groggy and a little bit tipsy. Goodnight everybody, hope you all sleep well tonight.

* Why you speaking this way for?

Why is it when we (well at least the majority of us) speak to ethnic, mostly older, people, we don't say sentences correctly. As soon as we hear them talk in a funny accent with grammatically incorrect sentences, we start to talk back to them in broken english as well. We leave out adjectives, verbs and generally any conjoining words, as though making the sentences as short as possible will make it easier for the ethnic person to understand what we're saying.

Old Chinese Man: "Herroo. Is you know where twan stasun?"
Me: "Sorry?"
OCM: "How you say da...uhm... d-d-d-da twaan stasunnn?"
Me: "Train station?"
OCM: "Yis yis, this one"
Me: "Ok. You see there, take the left. Keep going. You see the lights. Go the right"
OCM: "Erm...ehh? Why you der speaka this way for?"
Me: "...me no speak english."

Maybe the only reason ethnic people speak the way they do is because everyone else continually speaks retarded english to them because we think that's the only way they'll understand. They're probably thinking that the way they talk is fine because that's the way everyone else is speaking to them. Maybe if we all just speak normally to them, using verbs, adjectives and, heaven forbid, words with more than 2 syllables, maybe that'll turn them into fluently speaking Englishmen.

Old Chinese Man: "Herroo. Is you know where twan stasun?"
Me: "Sorry?"
OCM: "I said, can you please direct me to the nearest train station? Your deafness is horridly idiotic, if I must say so myself"
Me: "...Why you der speaka this way for?"

Perspective

What do you see when you look at the above picture? You're probably just thinking "what the hell? It's just some blob on the page." Or maybe I'm just too lazy to draw something to accompany this post. Just keep guessing. I'll tell you the answer at the end.

It's very awkward/weird when I see someone from an obscured angle, at say a train station, that I think I might know from an encounter about once or twice before. I can only see the back of their head with maybe a glimpse of the side of their face. I'm not certain enough whether or not it's them and decide some further investigations must be taken before I decide to say hi. So to get a better look, I do that walking-past-while-peering-at-the-corner-of-your-eye-while-pretending-to-look-at-something-else maneuver. I think I'm being clever with this sly move, but I most probably just look like this

So I'm walking around like a creep, with this person, that I may or may not know, blurred in my peripheral vision, and I still have no idea if I know them or not. I walk a bit further to get a better perspective on the person. I get a head on view and I'm far enough to get a good look without raising suspicion or alerting any nearby officers. But now, my memory becomes hazy and I can't remember what they really look like. So I criss-cross the face I'm seeing at the train station with the hazy memory in my mind thinking to myself "Err...yeah it kinda looks like them, but not really..but kinda.." And I try to figure it out by continuing to stare at the person that I have pretty much been stalking for the past 10 minutes. Of course by this time, she sees me and stares blankly back. I come to the conclusion that I do know this girl and walk over to say hi. "Hey there Ja..." But as I get too close, I realise too late that it's the wrong person. She now feels threatened by my previous creepy ogling and BAM! third time I get stabbed that week.

"Well that was a boring story Trung, now tell me what the hell that picture is suppose to be!" Wow...the people I imagine reading this blog are really aggressive...

Well anyway, if you're wondering what you're suppose to see, it depends on your perspective. But it is just a blob. Nothing special about it. A tiny insignificant smear on the page, yet that's all we see, completely ignoring the other 95% of the picture which is made up of pure clean white. No matter what perspective you look at it, it's still an imperfection. We try so hard to get that 100% white, but our efforts at cleaning it off either smudges it around more, or causes another blob to appear when we're too occupied erasing the previous one. Sometimes they're small and out of sight, while other times they're overgrown and persistent. Sometimes we're able to tuck them away into the corner, while other times they're smack in the middle of everything. No matter what we do, they will always be there. But maybe, that's ok? I don't believe anyone is strong enough to stare at their own pages without seeing their stains, and it's too cliche to say and almost against human nature to "accept what we can't change". I don't know what I'm supposed to do with mine. But whether we're nearing acceptance, hiding it from view, or continually struggling to clean up the mess that's centering our minds, I think it's very important that we don't lose sight of the other 95% that's filling up our page.

* Why Chilli?

Why do people enjoy eating chilli? I mean, I know people have different tastes when it comes to different foods, but I don't understand people who enjoy chilli. It's like a burning sensation that unrelentingly hooks onto your tongue without letting go. The persistent pain is comparable to getting hit in the nuts. There's an initial shock followed by a constant pain that seems to never let up. I don't like to be kicked in the nuts while I'm eating, thus, I don't like chilli.

Don't Discriminate, Appreciate

I'm starting to distinguish the difference between appreciating someone's ability and talents as opposed to admiring it. So that's what this post is gonna be all about. And before I carry on, I have to mention that the title of this post was taken from my friend David when he did his speech for history back in year 9. Not only was it funny, but it also rhymed. So there you go, my jokes are original, but I do reference my material when I quote, unlike all you other bloggering thieving bastards!!

Around the middle of last year, my taste in music dramatically changed when it started moving towards more acoustic songs. This lead to my admiration for guitar players. Especially, Sungha Jung. If you youtube him, you'll find out that he's a 12 year old guitar playing korean kid who happens to be a musical genius prodigee i.e. a friggin' alien with a bowl haircut! I had always admired this kid's skills, but it wasn't until I picked up a guitar of my own that I actually appreciated the way he was able to play the damn thing. Back at my internship, my guitar mentor Rod explained the intricacies of starting to play the instrument: "Playing the guitar ain't easy, man. If it was, every dumb cunt out there would be playing one."  Elegantly put.

I think the difference of admiration and appreciation could be said for anything that people do in life. When you know nothing about doing something i.e. playing the guitar, you're stuck in a situation where there are only 2 levels of effort that you can perceive: Knowing nothing, and playing the guitar. You're in the "know nothing" category, while anyone else who can play is bunched together on the other side of "playing the guitar". It's not until you cross that line from knowing nothing, to attempting to play that you realise that there are many, many more layers inside of that "playing the guitar" level. Suddenly you realise that's there's varying stages of effort and talent that's to be reached, and goddamn are they hard to reach. It's not until you try yourself that you can appreciate just how gifted some people are.

That's why I also appreciate the way some people draw. Can you believe how unbelievable that is? They're able to grab an image from their imagination and able to transcend that image from the unrestricted realms of their brain into reality and imprint it onto paper. That is just amazing. I'm still trying to make my drawings seem half as beautiful as what my imagination is intending. It's like my mind gives me an image of a gorgeous burning phoenix, but all I can draw is a retarded mangled duck

When you know nothing about doing something i.e. playing the guitar, you can't really appreciate what the pro's do in anyway. Sure, you know what they're doing is very talented, but there's no way to determine the amount of effort that's put into what they do. There's even a part in your brain that goes "I'm sure I could do that if I gave it a go." Hell, I'm like that with people who play Bass. I can appreciate people who can play the guitar really well, but that same level of understanding doesn't translate to Bass. I'm very sure it's difficult to play, but all I see is a guitar with only 4 strings. The same with cooking. I can cook eggs and toast, but that's about as far as I've gone with creating a culinary masterpiece. I watch masterchef, and there's the part of me that goes - "Doesn't look too hard...he's just throwing a bit of chicken on a grill..."

Of course, playing the Bass or cooking isn't easy, or else every dumb cunt out there would be doing it. But saying that, just because something isn't easy doesn't mean you should shy away from at least trying. Even if it doesn't work out for you, at least you can finally appreciate, instead of admiring from afar, the many people who do make it work, because there's nothing more gratifying for someone than being appreciated for the effort they put into what they do.

* Change of Grade

As you may have noticed, this blog has become a bit more...blue (or maybe you haven't, sorry if I offended any of my colorblind readers). Thought it would be a nice change from the dreary white on black color scheme that all my readers (yes, all 3 of you) have come to know and love. Well this blog is going through some changes, so get use to it BITCHES.......sorry.

So during my complete writer's mental block, I went through a couple of other people's blogs. Normally I wouldn't read through other people's personal updates of "Today, I went to the shops and I saw Jill. She is the biggest bitch ever!...but I loved her shoes", but I have stumbled across some that were personal and somewhat interesting too. It's surprising what other people can spill out of their minds into written form, especially when you know them in real life and think that not much must be happening in their heads. But saying that, I'm pretty communitively retarded in real life too, as opposed to the fluent, grammatically elegant author of this blog. Ok...that sounded gay. The point is, if you give a person a pen and enough time with their thoughts, they will surprise you.

My writer's block has disappeared because I now see blogging much differently now. My writing had always concentrated on being funny first, with any deep personal messages always being tucked away in the last paragraph behind some lines of humor. If I had something to say, but couldn't think of anything funny to correspond with the topic, I would usually discard the idea. No one wants to read anything boring, and I'd always thought personal equated to boring in terms of blog writing. And in most cases, that's true. Personal blogs can get so cheesy, but they can be real and interesting. Of course my humour (or lack thereof) isn't gonna disappear in my postings, but they won't be the only driving force of my writing. As long as it's interesting, people would keep reading. So that's the change that I'm going to undertake with my blog. Real and interesting, minus the cheese...just like a pizza for the lactose intolerant.

* Hello Again

Man, I've been so slack with my blog updating. I can blame the absence studying for my finals, going to work everyday, and just plain writer's block. But now all my exams are over, internship has finished up and my brain is beginning to actually be somewhat inspired once more. When I started, this blog was just meant to be me trtying to be funny and posting up random ramblings. But it's grown into an outlet for my brain to explode on, and it would be a shame for me to stop writing on it now. So check up on this space in the weeks to come for more wacky brain exploding updates =D.

So yeah, like i said. Internship just finished up yesterday. I spent the morning of it handing out going away presents to my team that I had been working for the whole internship. The presents included a bin for Farshid, who had never had one of his own at his desk and always used mine, a couple of pen holders for Bob, who would always store/hide everyone's pens in his drawers, a set of coffee cups for Rod, a coffee addict who would usually spend half an hour every morning searching for cups, a dictionary for JB, who's spelling was just plain bad, and a kid's life vest for Jim, who was able to swim 30 laps in the pool in an hour while I was drowning after 1. Obviously, all these presents were meant as a joke, and everyone had a good laugh. I was sure to have bought presents that they would keep around the office as a reminder of my time there. Ha! Lame, i know.

At 12, a bunch of people from the office took me to Star Lao/Thai Restuarant for my farewell lunch. It was a really nice gathering. And then at the end, my boss gave a speech, along with the other member of my team who shared stories of me and my time there. It was really heart warming.

Back in the office, the hours were rolling quickly past. It was almost 4o'clock, and the very last time I would be filling out my time sheet as an employee. I went around the office and said my final goodbyes to everyone, and everyone had congregated around to say their farewells. With everyone around, one of my work mates asked me to play a song for everyone. So as my parting gift, I played for them. So I was there, playing some tunes out of my guitar, with everyone standing around to watch and listen, with the spotlight all on me. It made me feel so... awesome.

So I dedicate this post to the people of Fairfield City Council who have kept me company for the past 6 months. I've learnt so much there and met so many people. It was such an awesome place to work and to just spend everyday at. I have definitely become a better person for being there. So to everyone there, thank you. You will all be remembered and greatly missed.

The past 6 months

I’ve had this blog now for over a year now and I’ve been asked a couple of times “Hey Trung, you should write a post sometime about your personal life”. My response has always been…wait a minute… didn’t I already start a blog like this before? Well I realised that the last time I wrote a blog about my “personal life”, it was just a bunch of music tracks with my interpretation of the lyrics, where the interpretation was just a reflection of my personal life.  No reflection this time. Actual attempt at a personal blog, here we go.

Okay, before you read on, this is a long blog post. And I mean LONG. It’s the longest post I have ever written, and is about 3 times longer than the “Retro Update”.  I started writing and just couldn’t stop. So you’ve been warned about the length of this post. If you have a lot of spare time, and If you want to know about me better or you're just curious about the life and random erratic mind of that guy on keepontyping.blogspot, then have fun reading what’s to come.

The main (but not only) reason I decided to write a post like this is because of my internship. It was suppose to go for 6 months. And according to my contract, it’s gonna be over at the end of this week. It’s almost already over, but I’ve asked to have it extended by an extra 6 weeks. From early responses, it’s most certainly gonna go ahead and get extended. One reason I want it extended is for the extra moolah. I just want to be stinkin’ filthy rich. But why I really want the internship extended is because I just love it so goddamn much. Best part of my uni life so far. I’ve learnt more in the first 2 months at my internship than I did in the first 2 years of uni.  I found a place where I actually don’t mind going to work every morning.

My previous job completely sucked balls. I use to work at a call centre for charity. Even though it was for charity, I was getting paid, so it made it feel more like a job than an act of kindness. It was such a chore, calling up people knowing that you were about to annoy them for money. At first you sympathise with the people on the phone, thinking to yourself “Hey man, I’m one of you people. I understand if you say no. I’d say it too!” But as the weeks go by, you start to slowly go lose all respect for mankind. Trust me, telemarketers hate you as much as you hate them. It was just such a shit and unnecessarily dull job for me.  One day, I went through a whole shift of calling up strangers, and filled up my roster for the following two weeks. As I walked out of the building, I thought to myself “Man, this is a shit job”. Pretty much a normal Monday. Why don’t I just quit then? I asked myself. And at that very moment, I did, completely leaving out of spontaneity. 2 weeks after that, I had an interview and was offered my new internship. I celebrated by turning up to my old job’s Christmas party and using up their free bar tab. All turned out well.

It’s such a relaxing place working at the council. I spend my mornings just walking around and having a chat with people. I enjoy they’re company, and believe it or not, they like having me around too. The people working at my branch are just so funny. I’m always laughing at the random and often gratuitous jokes. There’s really no point me writing an example. It’s more of a ‘you had to be there’ moment.  I just don’t want it to end yet.

When the 6 week extension was accepted, I was also given an offer for an extra 6 months working there. I couldn’t really give an answer straight away. I mean, that place is great, but that would mean I would have to hold off uni again. I haven’t had a full uni semester in over a year. And I know I should be thinking “Are you crazy!? Who the hell wants to do nothing but assignments every 2nd day of the week? Take the 6 month extension!!!” I still have another month and a half to think it over, but I don’t think I’ll be taking up the offer. That place is, without a doubt, the most awesome place to be. And it does make me feel good to know that I was offered to stay there longer, and that the people there actually want me to stay there too. Nice feeling of belonging. But no matter how happy I am to stay around the people there, it can’t offer me anymore in my career. I want to be an engineer who designs buildings, bridges and just in your face structures, so that every time I see one of my designs constructed and standing, I can be proud knowing I helped create it. I want my work to be my lasting mark. It will be my version of “Trung was here” that I leave on this world.  Well that’s the dream anyway. But it’s still a dream worth following, and as much as I am really happy where I am, it’s not leading me to where I want to end up. I don’t see it going anywhere, so I don’t think I’ll stay for the extra 6 months. It was really good while it lasted though and I’m gonna really enjoy these last 6 weeks. It’s time to move on. God, it sounds like I’m breaking up with the internship lol.

Going back to uni again. I haven’t had a full semester in over a year. I can’t believe it’s actually been that long. Uni is hated by people all the time, but I actually don’t mind it. I mean, of course doing assignments constantly week in week out is total crap and I’d feel better being attacked by a giant polar bear instead. But there’s something about the whole going to uni and staying in the city that I still admire. Most of the time I spend my time on the hour train ride sleeping, but I still don’t mind the times while I’m awake on it. Looking outside the windows, seeing all the stations go by, the shops at Auburn, the huge platforms at Strathfield, and the old train yard between Ashfield and Redfern.  I only go uni once a week during the night classes. There’s just something about going to UTS at night. I still remember the shortcuts in and out of each building, the places where I love to eat, and the music that buskers play as you come out of the Central tunnel. In a weird way, I kinda enjoyed all that uni hustle. I’ll most likely regret these words in about 5 months time when all of my assessments are lined up all at once to kick me in the nuts, but I’m kinda looking forward to uni life again.

If I’m doing a personal blog about the last 6 months than I guess I’ll have to talk about ... ASUFgbgjadgbtuoqqewE. I didn’t know how to start talking about it so I just mashed the keyboard hoping the words would come. Guess it didn’t work. I’m not gonna write about anything specific, that story is only for those who need to know. I’ll try explaining this a different way, this story about ‘her’.

It was like she was at the top of this very tall hill. There I am at the bottom, with just me and my bike. So I get on the damn thing and started riding my way up there. It’s pretty easy at first, just cruising along at an easy pace. Then the hill starts to become steeper, but I keep at it, continuing to traverse upwards. As I start to get use to the slope of the hill, it changes its grade once more and becomes twice as steep, this time, sending traffic down my way.  Each passing vehicle scrapes my bike, continually building up the scratches that each leaves behind. The further I go, the steeper it gets while the traffic volume keeps multiplying and speeding faster. I learn to get better at riding and dodging, and continue travelling up this relentless hill. At this point, the slope becomes too steep and the traffic becomes too much, and people start telling me to get a grip and come back down before I get hurt. Common sense tells me I should listen. Normally I’d listen to reason and stop being stupid. But this time, I decide to attach rockets to my bike and soar my way to the top. I feel like I’m flying as I get closer and closer. Everything that I rode through starts to become all worth it... then I smash head on into an oncoming truck. It sends me halfway down the hill. I barely manage to keep riding. Cars continue to pummel downwards on me. I try to dodge again, but my bike has become all messed up. I no longer have control of its direction. I try as hard as I can to turn it back down, but it has become fixated on steering upwards. I desperately try to keep the bike upright, continually spinning the wheels, while the bike endures damage from all sides. I try to apply the brakes, but realise that I had removed that thing a long time ago. I try to keep moving, but the gears have become lodged into the bike’s mangled frame. Each revolution of the peddles just grinds the gears, cutting them deeper and deeper into the bike, fucking it up from the inside. And then, after hearing something, seeing something and knowing something I wish I hadn’t, I stop peddling. And just stare as a semi-trailer comes crashing down towards me, sending me all the way down to the bottom, with just me and a completely shattered bike. It stops working, no longer having to deal with anymore steep hills or oncoming traffic, or even the feeling of flying. And that was that. The person at the top of the hill has long moved on, but that’s ok. I’m gonna spend a little bit more time here at the bottom. Spend that time repairing my bike. I’m gonna pimp it all up, with larger wheels, a flashier frame and swifter peddles. Make it bigger and better than ever before. Though I must admit, I had a very beautiful view on my way up that hill... Well for now, time to rebuild my bike, this time, I’ll remember to install working brakes. And when I’m ready to go bike riding on hills again, maybe I’ll be stupid enough to throw those brakes away, and maybe I’ll be lucky enough to make it without crashing.

And that’s the end of that story. Well... it was supposed to be the end of it. Time for a switch on the analogy. A relationship is like a bear. It starts off as an innocent cuddly thing. Then it eventually grows. The warmth you get from it builds as you get closer. And as it grows, so does its teeth and claws. As you feel more comfortable with it, you also become more vulnerable to it. It takes two people to put in the effort to look after a damn bear, and if one person leaves, the one that’s left is unable to contain the thing and gets mauled and broken by it. Even though that bear was growing, she could not get past the sight of its teeth and claws, so decided to lock and cage the thing up before it could do any real damage and left it at that. And there I am, being stupid and continually prodding at that friggin’ bear, with what little strength it had left thrashing around, and seeing it too many times come free of its cage, just to be quickly locked back in with another goodbye. I just wanted so badly for it to stay free, but I wanted her to want that too. But maybe that’s just wanting too much. I try not to disturb that bear anymore. It’s left fading away in its cage. I don’t check up on it anymore, afraid that I might see it still breathing... or see that it has already died.

Well that was that story. If the analogies weren’t even close to being coherent, than oh well, it’s the closest I can get to making an already jumbles situation make sense. And it sounds overdramatic, but you know what. It’s my story that I wrote, so I can make it as dramatic as I want. ASd84ASD8Sd8AS@*)7580A... mashing on the keyboard...

I’ve been learning to play the guitar since February. Picked it up and I really love it. I’m in my own zone, where it’s just me and the melodies of my guitar. It’s weird being attached to an inanimate object. It lifts my mood when I play it and relaxes the mind. But it can also frustrate me as well when strings aren’t sounding right and the chords I try to play don’t sound like they should. In these moments of frustration I just feel like ripping the strings apart. Ever since the 2nd week I started playing the guitar, I’ve been learning to play the acoustic version of Edge of Desire by John Mayer. I sometimes am able to play that song and make it sound half decent, but often the tune of the strings I’m attempting to pluck just sound shit, ruining my mood making me just go aAGG@oUASBG!GBT!T9-YGH!@!... mashing the keyboard ... strange how I badly want to play song about wanting something so badly. 

Edge of Desire
“I want you so bad I’ll go back on the things I believe. There I just said it, I’m scared you’ll forget about me”



I’m still into John Mayer. His songs are just friggin’ magic. I thought I’d share some of my new favourites that I’ve heard over the months. So the next few paragraphs are pretty much me becoming a fangirl over John Mayeruloooooooooo!!!

In Your Atmosphere
“I’m gonna steer clear, ‘cause I’d die if I saw you, I’d die if I didn’t see you there”
When I went to John Mayer’s concert a couple of weeks ago, the atmosphere in there was wild. Everyone cheered and sung/screamed along to every song that man was playing on stage. But when this song came up, everyone shut their mouth and just got lost in the words of this song. Most powerful moment of the night.It has become one of my favourite songs of all time. It’s about no longer wanting to go to a place that you use go to with someone that you were once close with. Because it’s hard going somewhere where you know they might be. You’re constantly looking around and hoping you’d find them again, and you feel down when you don’t. But when you do see them, it’s like someone has kicked you in the lungs, jumpstarting your heart again. But then you realise that you’re both no longer what you use to be, and you’re all but strangers to each other now. That jumpstart feeling you had in your chest is crushed back to nothing as you both walk away. You just lose either way.



In Repair
“Oh, it’s taking so long, I could be wrong, I could be ready”
I’m so into this song. It’s such a nice lift me up song. It’s as though John is saying to me “dude, everything is gonna be alllllrrrriiiiggghhhtt!” And I’m like “really? SAWWWEEEEETTT JOHN MAYER!!!” And then we jump in the air and high five each other < /gay imagination>. The explanation of this song is pretty simple, but I like John Mayer’s explanation of it better:
JM: “This is a song about being fucked up but coming out of it, you know. When you’re a kid and you get a tennis ball to the nuts, it’s one of the worst feelings in the world. But as all men will tell you, there’s no better feeling than when it stops hurting.”



Say
“It’s better to say too much, then never to say what you need to say again”
I’ve had this song playing on a loop as I write this blog. I feel kinda vulnerable writing all this ‘personal’ stuff, but you know what. I’m gonna say it anyway.



I love mellow songs. So easy to relax to. I’m relaxed about a lot of things. Woke up late for work? Eh, relax. Missed the train to a compulsory tutorial at uni? Don’t worry about it, catch the next train. Assignment that’s half finished that’s due in 2 hours? Relax, it’ll get done.  Being the first person to do his presentation out of the whole class and is completely unprepared? Oh well, I can wing through that easily. Amazingly, all these things actually happened to me in the past 2 weeks. I don’t worry myself with such things. Not because I’m a mellow person, it’s because I know that there are more important things to worry about. Like with family. They’ve been through a lot over the years with news from afar, and I just have to hope that everyone is doing ok and that they’ll get through it all and remain happy. Worrying about who I can talk to about problems. Just gotta talk to people I trust about it. And if they’re too busy to talk, then I just have to wait. If they’re still too busy, then I’ll just have to wait longer until they’re free to help or until I convince myself that the problem no longer matters anymore and move on. And also worrying about other things...like dealing with my own doubt.

It’s not very often, but it’s a really dark feeling when there’s all this doubt. Especially when I begin to questions things about myself. Why are you drawing? Why are you playing the guitar? Why are you writing? And it’s a crap feeling when the response in my head says “don’t bother, no one’s watching, no one’s listening, no one’s reading. Even if they are, they’re not that impressed”. That voice comes out whenever I feel like I’m completely exhausted, and my will power is unable to fight back. I hate being like that, when it feels like all my accomplishments mean nothing because I have no one to share it with. It’s as though what I do isn’t enough and that it’s not worth much. The only time I feel like I’ve failed.

Whenever I read personal messages scrawled up on facebook, I’m always pissed when someone is overly down on themselves. And reading back on what I’ve written about myself in this blog, I’m pissed off again. There’s no reason for me to be doubting myself. I’ve worked hard to be who I am. I put so much effort into all the accomplishments I’ve gotten, and none of it was easy. My inspiration for my drawings has taken me years to get to where I’m at, even if they’re nowhere near as good as other people I know, I can still be proud of what I’m able to scrawl up on a page. I became the fastest learner in my guitar class because of all the hours I poured into practicing the damn thing every week. And this entire blog, dating back to the very first post back in March 2009, is a result of all my experiences that I’ve had put into words of humour and reflection. Everyone hurts. That’s just how it works. Life is just a bunch of random things that happen. There are no completely good or completely bad situations. Just a random combination of both, with the outcome of it depending on your perspective of what you see. I just have to believe that I’m worth more than I’m given credit for and that I deserve a lot more than what I’m given. I’m not naive enough to say my life is perfect, or selfish enough to say it’s shit. There are things that have made life easier over, and others that have made it that much harder over these 6 months. But even if I don’t perceive myself to be happier, I know I am definitely better and stronger than I was. So whatever happens in the next 6 months, be it new opportunities, the feeling of flying, broken bikes, or even unbearable heartaches, bring it all fuckin’ on!

Starling St

"7:00, got 30 minutes to go" I mumble as my gaze diverts from the dashboard clock back onto the road.
I pull up to the first intersection and squint through the glare of the headlights to read the nearest street sign.
     "Starling St...never heard of it. Good start" I mumble to myself again.
     Not that long to get to my destination. Well no point just sitting here, time to drive. Left turn, right turn, left turn, two more rights, a left, 2 street lights and a flying pigeon to the windshield.
     "7:12"
     I pull over and read the closest sign, trying to get my bearings.
     "Mediun St....never heard of it."
     Damn my ridiculously random navigational skills. Wait, what am I saying? I'm not lost; everything around me is just not where it's supposed to be. Undeterred by these ridiculously random streets, I keep driving. I'll bound to be somewhere if I keep moving.
     Right turn, left turn, red light, right turn, green light, straight ahead, dead-end, U-turn, green light, left turn and a flashing petrol light.
     Confident in the power of dumb luck, I pull up to the nearest street sign with certainty that it will have letters arranged in a familiar order.
     "Loest St"
     At least I know where I am now. Too bad I just don't know what Loest St is.
     I slowly redirect my eyes to the clock, hoping time would be kind enough to be a bit sluggish than it'd usually be.
     "7:32"
     I'm not late. Everyone else is just early.
     As I begin to move again on another frustratingly random detour, a pair of lights creep up into my rear view mirror. I strain my eyes through the darkness and vaguely make out the driver. Well dressed man in a suit. He looks like he's going the same place I am. But what's the chance of him actually going to where I need to be...but then again what's the chance of him NOT going to where I need to be.
     "7:35"
     Crap, no time for logic. Follow that strange man. If I get lost, I can just blame it on him.
     Right turn, right turn, green light, left turn, green light, straight ahead, red light, left turn, right turn and a brake light.
     The strange man I'm stalking pulls up to a driveway and into a garage. He wasn't going somewhere, he was going home. How inconsiderate of him. I try to re-regain my bearings and read the nearest street sign.
     "Starling St"
     WTF!!!???
     In my frustration, I grab the club lock and start bashing the steering wheel. My hissy fit starts to slow down enough for me to stare back at the clock.
     "7:42"
     I should probably look for my map. Why didn't I look for it earlier? Why didn't I ask that question earlier? Why am I asking questions instead of looking for it? Why!?
     I wildly rummage through my glove box. Finally! I found my sunglasses. Been looking for them for weeks. But it doesn't help me now, it's in the pitch of night. The world is not bright enough for me to be wearing sunnies. Where's that map? I didn't lose it, it's just not where it's suppose to be..... ARRRGAUGGSAHH!!!
    "7:45"
    I'm very un-early to whatever it is I need to be, situated wherever it is I'm currently not.
    Off in the distance, I see a tall man in a hoodie. Ignoring the warnings I often hear on the news of crazy serial killers roaming the streets, I foolishly, and retardedly, wave down the potentially deadly pedestrian.
    "What do you want?" The man asks as he comes up to the window.
    I show my surprise at his straight-forwardness by spastically stringing together non-coherent noises.
    Irritated at my apparent retardation, the man lets out a frustrated grunt and starts to walk off.
    "Wait!" I shout back at him, prompting him to reluctantly walk back.
    "What?" He says, with nostrils flaring.
    Knowing I only have one chance before he walks off for good in complete annoyance, I ask the most sensible question that comes to mind.
    "Have you seen my map?"
    
   
   

Directions

Ok, I have to admit to everyone reading this right now. I am directionally impaired. If I ever say I know the way to a place, I'm lying. I'm just guessing. And if I somehow do arrive at my destination, it is all due to dumb luck and google maps. If I'm ever lost driving, screw it, I'll just buy the nearest house. Well I was lost, but now I live here. I have severely improved my predicament. (joke stolen from Mitch Hedberg)

Well I'm obviously exaggerating about my lack of directional skills. I do know how to get to places, it's just that I only know one way to get there. I can drive anywhere, as long as the starting point is my house. If I'm at destination B and need to get to destination C, i'll just drive back to my house from 'B' and make my way to 'C'. This unnecessary and, admittedly, retarded detour adds about half an hour to my trip.I could've just spent that half an hour opening the street directory and learning the new routes, but that'd just be silly.

My geography isn't so crash hot either. Being at uni, you meet alot of people from all over NSW. So naturally I ask people where they're from. But they answer with a suburb that I've never even heard of before. So the next thing I ask them is "Where's that?". And instead of telling me in terms of directions in relation to the position of Sydney, they tell me 4 surrounding suburbs that sound just like random noises to me. So at first I was unsure about 1 area, now there's another 4 that I have to google. Screw you! Just move to Liverpool and make it easier for all the questionairers!

My internship often requires me to inspect road sites. And since I'm in my council uniform, quite a few people stop and ask me for directions. One time, this lady had pulled over and asked me where the Canley Heights Shops were. I knew the area quite well from this out-of-the-way street. So I told her the directions to the shops, even adding details such as when to expect traffic lights and roundabouts. After I had confidently directed her with my spastic left-turn hand gestures, she thanked me and drove off. It wasn't until she turned the first corner did I realise that I had just given the completely wrong instructions and she was actually driving in the complete opposite direction of her destination. So if you happen to be in Whoop Whoop and you happen to see an old, tired and most likely hungry lady asking for directions to Canley Heights Shops, tell her I'm sorry.

I've also been on the recieving end of direction giving. And I blame it all on miscommunication.

Joe: Turn left, right now
Trung: What? Turn left or right?
Joe: Alright, Left.
Trung: All Right? Then a left...what?
Joe: Turn left!
Trung: Oh ok...when?
Joe: Now! You're about to drive into a tree!!

And then there's the too-late direction giving. When you're in a conversation with a passenger who's in charge of which way to go and cut-off half way through one of their a sentencesand say:
"Oh shit, you were meant to take that left. Sorry."
"That's okay. I'm not gonna do a U-turn, so you can walk home from here. Sorry."
Of course I'm only joking. I'm not that heartless. I'd offer them an umbrella. They can use it as shelter when it's raining or as a weapon when i drop them off at Canley Vale.

We sometimes need directions to guide us to what to do next. And if someone was to ask what am I suppose to do next, the most honest answer i can give is "Fucked if I know". Of course you can always try to think up the most logical or best way of moving forward, but unless you actually go ahead with it, there's no way of knowing if that's the right thing to do. Hell, how do we even know what 'right' even means. When we choose a direction, that'll just lead to another crossroad where you have to choose another direction, which will then lead you to another. It's all just one big chain reaction of choices. One wrong choice could lead to a right one, and one right choice could lead to many, many wrong ones. You're momentarily lost, then found, only to lose your way again, waiting to find it once more. All we can do is to just keep on doing what we do without being afraid to ask for a little help with direction from time to time. As for me, I just have to keep on doing what Trung Huynh would do, knowing that I'm the only one that can.

And with that, I'll end this post with some wise words from Ghandi:
Whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it.

Happy Typing Y'all  =)