I'm Employed

If you think that I would let the year pass by without dropping a word or few here, you are probably right. Unless this time, I am able to dedicate my full concentration into actually finish writing here without being distracted within the next hour, because after that I will need to sleep - work, or rather the preparation for it, starts in eight hours. If you don't really think much about me, I probably deserved it.

In contrast to my previous three ambitious attempts to summarize my entire year into a mini novel, I will try to make this short and quick. Because if it did not work the previous times, it wouldn't work now either. Also because I need to sleep. This will probably be the last sleep of the year hence it's important I that I do it right. I do not even know where I will be when everyone else counts down to the new year. I am definitely not into that sort of thing but I just find it very sad that when someone somewhere in the future asks me where did I spend my last day of 2017, telling them 'I don't know' would actually be an accurate answer. In shock and disbelief, they will ask me the same question ten more times, to which every time I will answer, 'I don't know'. Thinking that I'm a lying little prick (they would have gotten two thirds of it right), they will have no choice but to buy a polygraph and hook me onto the machine, ensuring that I am not under the influence of any alcohol or McDonald's or hairspray, and ask me the same question one last time. I will answer, 'I don't know', and they will discover the saddest truth of their life. They had spent their money on a stupid polygraph which could have been used to buy me McDonald's gift voucher as a consolation to me for not knowing where I was during new year's eve.

I still worship McDonald's. It remains the fastest and easiest way to make me happy, and most of the time I really need to be happy. 52 is my rough estimate for the amount of times I've stepped into a McDonald's this year, although something tells me that the actual number may be higher than that. Another thing that makes me happy is sleeping, which I am going to do very soon and I cannot wait for it to happen. Sleeping is very tricky though, it really has to be the right amount. More often that not I overdo it and feel very lousy after, which would make me resort to my other source of happiness. This is also why I think 52 may not be very accurate after all. There will also be times where this happy activity just refuse to take place, and that's when angry comes in. But today I'm not going to talk about that because I need to sleep real soon.

While I try to remain low, I am not hiding anything. The truth is, I am just tired all the time. Tired from work, tired of work, tired from, and tired of not working. I really am tired all the time, and I don't think there's a proper solution for it. It's not like I can sleep whenever and wherever I want. Like most of the things in life, it's just a matter of getting used to. It's been a year and a half since I've been employed and contrary to popular belief, no, my soul has not been discovered yet. If anything it's getting further and further away. I feel really lost and I hope you read past this sentence as if it's not the entire point of my writing. Ha. I also feel detached from people but I am okay with it. Most of the time now I like to be left alone, because I'm already stretching my quota seeing three hundred faces a day. It really takes a toll on your health, spiritual and mental. If things were up to me I'd very much like to see only few specific faces a day which includes my dog's. At this point in life I can positively conclude that not more than twenty people will attend my funeral, should there be one someday. And that's not even the sad part. The sad part is, if more than twenty people attends it, I would get angry. I would really get angry while being busy rotting six feet under. Which is exactly how I pass my time these days, really, only I'm many storeys above.

If you have made it this far into my writing, I guess it's only appropriate that I tell you more things you can live without knowing. Gleba is a real word, the left side of a ship is called port, the right side of a ship is called starboard, and I have been co-habitating with two strangers for as long as I've been in the work force. Sometimes (twice a day) I wonder whether I'm a good tenant, since all I do is sleep and put things back where they belong after use. They call me Jess because that's how I introduce myself to people I may not want to commit a proper human relationship with and now I am stuck with Jess for the rest of my time in the household. I don't know how to go back from Jess to Jess Minn. You don't just tell people to not call you something and call you something instead. 'Hey, from today onwards, please call me this, not that.' Unless you're a caterpillar. One day you're a caterpillar, and then one day you're a butterfly. I know there's some cycle in between but I am too lazy to google it. The point is, I'm not a caterpillar. I can't just tell people to call me something else. But I think I can live with it. They are probably not going to attend my imaginary funeral.

If the person in paragraph two must really know, I spent the eve of new year's eve in London, and on that night, I wrote about the person in paragraph two here in paragraph two. I will also be in London on the morning of new year's eve, until 0910 GMT. If I am serious about this I could find out about the flight route on Flightradar or something but I don't really care. All I care about now is my imminent sleep. When I touch the ground again on new year's day morning and have access to onions and bacons and what not, I will attempt to make a good pot of carbonara, despite my lack of practical experience in the kitchen for the past year. And that is what I have planned for the new year.

Believe it or not I have Mozart plugged into my ears right now - at 3:39 in the morning. I feel oddly good. Why have I never thought of this? It all started with Batman V Superman, a movie I had just watched hours ago which I don't even bother to rate. One thing that particularly caught my attention was this actress, more specifically, her voice. The more she spoke the more I'm convinced that this voice, this voice does not belong to her. I have heard this voice before and it just doesn't match her face. Tucked away somewhere in my brain, I had a much more suitable candidate for this voice, the way she spoke. By the end of the movie I googled and boy was I right. The voice belongs to Mrs. Incredibles from The Incredibles. Elastigirl. Helen Parr. When I came back and was at my desk doing my usual stuff (nothing) this particular scene flashed by the back of my eyes. The scene where Jack Jack's babysitter said, 'Mozart makes babies smart' over the phone.

I was, afterall, once a baby.

In other news The Incredibles 2 will be released in 2019, fifteen years after the first movie. I'll be done leaving the world behind by then, ha.

Morning

I haven't experienced many mornings for the past two months. Those filled with sunshine, birds singing, and a purpose. My mornings were mostly dark, mostly dancing between the lines of late and early, and too often accompanied by a brief, melodious prayer from a distance away. I wake up in the afternoon, even though my digital alarm clock was always set to ring hours before that. It didn't matter. I still struggle to understand why would people choose to waste their time doing something they know to be so redundant, so meaningless, and yet - they still do it. Does the element of hope come to play here?

In a matter of hours, I will experience morning once again - the bright type. I will set my alarm, and I will be awaken by it, because I want to be awaken by it. I want to be awaken by it because I cannot wait to have a glimpse of what my entire year will be like. I want to receive the news. There can only be two possibilities: it's either good news or bad news. So simple, yet the grand distance between the differing implications of both. For the past week, I had been advised to draft out my plans for both premises. I dreaded doing it, but in the end managed to come out with at least something, and here's how it looks like:

Premise A: I pass.

Hi Ms X,
I refer to your e-mail below and

I have just received my results and am delighted to inform you that I am able to join your company any time from now. When should I go for the medical examination? Is there anything else that I need to provide/do?
Thank you for your understanding once again and hope to hear from you soon.

Premise B: I fail.

Hi Ms X,
I have just received my results and regret to inform you that I am only able to join the company after the second week of March. May I know what 

I don't even know 'what'. It ends there.

The news is expected to make its almighty presence at 8AM. Until then, until I open that fateful e-mail, my results are both of the above. Right now, right this moment, its both good news and bad news. Just like the cat in the box. But once I open it... that privilege vanishes. It will only be one of it, and it might not be the one I had hoped for. What, then?

Prelude

Eleven days into the new year and I have yet to do anything... significant. Unless having McD is counted. Then yes. I have eaten 3 meals of McD this year. This averages into 1 McD for every 4 days I breathe. Which is pretty rewarding, but I cannot speak for my future self. With no more classes to attend for the rest of my life (well, not the conventional type anyway), time seemed to have lost its dimension. I wake up mostly in the afternoons, and uh, I let time pass. By doing so, I'll be drawn nearer to certainty - Monday the 18th (results day ha ha..). On that fateful day, the pixels should start blurring into one, and hopefully (a very, very optimistic hope) it leads me to where I want to be.

2015 was exciting. I've learned things that I never knew about myself, and I've done things I never imagined I would. Although minute in comparison with possibly everyone else in this world, I'm grateful for everything that has taken place, and for the people who supported me and encouraged me along the way.

If you must know, I am not the type of person who plans ahead because I don't want to have expectations. I don't want to have expectations because I know the very backbone of our perception on 'happy' is built around it. If I knew that I wanted a hot mocha, and ordered a hot mocha, but ended up with a mocha frap, I would not be happy. Because what I planned for when I placed my order was to receive a hot mocha. I would be disappointed, because I had expectations. So as a measure to mitigate disappointments in life, I try my best to not expect anything. I'll take what life gives me, I'll go where life brings me.

But this year, oh this year, I'm leaving the world behind. I'm taking life to where I want it to be. This year, I've made plans for a... a detour. And I am terribly excited for what's to come. I know I would be crushed and go back into my tiny hole of darkness if things do not turn out the way I want it to be, but this has made me feel the most alive and motivated in a long while. To be able to have a dream again, to have something to look forward to and to hope for, is a pretty good feeling, I must say. I am well aware that some people may not agree on this and some may even judge me for it, but ah, if only they know how much this means to me.

When the time comes, everything will fall into place, and we will see.

Penang, June 2015

Now isn't exactly the time for this but this tab has been opened and reopened for the longest time. Each time I open Chrome and see these endless tabs I feel like my computer's expiry is imminent. Just like my college life (YES!).

I want to relate how I felt when these photos were taken to how I feel this instant as these syllabuses are typed, but I can't. We are now two different entities.

Exactly six months ago I was probably building up my excitement for this trip. Right now I'm mentally building the arena in which I will soon throw a farewell party to these... Materials. Books, notes, stationeries, papers, articles, you name them. There will be balloons.

So, back in June I entered the famous Penang territory for the first time in my unexciting life. It was a trip too hot and too short. I remember being toasted. (Someday I'll be toasted to.) That was the day I decided that sunblock does not do its name justice, at all. I kept in mind that I ought to utilize every second I dedicated to this little island, so despite the intense heat I kept going, drenched on the outside and dried to the bones on the inside. The Ayer Itam Asam Laksa was my favourite of all the food we tried. I would happily down ten bowls of it had I been blessed with the stomach that of a carnivorous cow. In the span of one and a half day we visited a t a temple, walked through some jetties, discover some street arts, went to a concert, wasted some time at a mall, tried out a cafe and had tonnes of food, of which most I decided wasn't picture-worthy. From this trip I've learned that careful planning is always good.

I'll be back soon.

A Call

Today

I made a phone call

It all started because

I want to be happy

Be assured

Be inspired

I can now look forward to

The future

That's the least I can hope for

Please get my order right

This inconsistency.

I think writing is a very beautiful thing to do. I admire people who write well and I'm looking forward to the day I admire myself. Like pictures, writing essentially portray moments and give you an idea of how its like to be in some place else, someone else's shoes, or even some others' mind. Above all, it is able to make moments permanent. And for that and many more reasons, I love writing. Or perhaps, as demonstrated here, loved. I stopped writing and sharing here because I found out that I really do not like it when people know more than they should. (I was young when this space was created.)

But tonight, tonight I feel slightly different. Tonight I write because I want to immortalize this snowball of feelings I've been feeling for the past one year and a half. Because I don't want this to be forgotten. And one day when I'm gone, at least, at the very least, I can count on the internet to remember this:

I feel thankful to have met you. I really do. I never knew the extent to which I am capable of opening up to another being, and one fateful day everything changed. Sometimes I still wonder whether it's even humanly possible, or safe for one to share, to talk so much, but when we start talking (ie me speaking you pretending to be listening), the world melts away, and I'm in my safe haven. I hate most of the things in this world, and I am thankful that you understand without judging me. I am thankful that when I'm with you, I am able to find my little corner of peace, despite all the chaos, all the life that's happening around us. I am thankful that you have allowed me to be part of your life, and you, a huge part of mine.

I am thankful that you make me know that I am loved, everyday, without even needing to use words. I used to not know that. Love really was just an overused word. But with you, I feel flooded with love in the littlest of your actions. The way you always listen to my blabbers patiently. How you fulfil my ice-cream cravings even when you've restricted yourself from it. When you walked all the way back to your car to get your jacket because you thought I need it (which I really did thank you). And when you shared your nasi lemak with me, which you really didn't have to because lately I've picked up a new hobby and it's called cooking.

Tonight we sang again. I love it when we communicate via non-existent songs because (creativity. I like that and we lack that and we need to practice on that.) I love seeing how comfortable you can be. I love how you trust me enough to be silly and childish together. I love it when we can be the most original versions of ourselves, I love being in a place (car) where people (we) don't judge (us). I love how you can make me laugh so easily, sometimes I feel rather useless for not being able to do the same to you. But when you laugh, oh believe me, that's my favourite sound in the world. And that's a sound I do not want to forget, ever.

Here's to more laughter, here's to more love.



And here's enough pizza toppings for the rest of your life.

The Morning After

LAST FRIDAY NIGHT saw two human-sized humans taking a stroll down IKEA because we have never experienced how it's like to be in a gargantuan box on a Friday night. Late. Also because I refused to study. Why am I justifying myself? Gave up the thought of bringing new additions home upon reaching the queue (finally experienced IKEA on a Friday night yay) and we had no choice but to purchase something from the food counter because we needed the change. For parking. It costs three quarters of USD now. In some malls its half a USD. In some malls it's a quarter of USD. I love math. At this point you must be wondering, uh, why am I telling you all these. Well, I could tell you about how I attempted making chicken parmagiana yesterday without using a single trace of bread crumbs and how I took a study break this week literally (a break from study, not to study) and how agressively I have been responding to my phone each time I received an e-mail (unsubscribed from a few useless mails, ah productivity) and also how I died on the 63rd day in Don't Starve (doggy issues) but I mentally decided that it would be rather uninteresting. Also, relevance. Also, I may or may not be stuck in a room with only one palm-sized entertaining device, leading me to believe that typing, no, tapping on a 4-inch screen with only two thumbs (whoa!) may be a brilliant idea. So just let me tap away. Now, back to where we ended up getting this fantasticly pink-ly wrapped biscuits and went to this cafe to satisfy some ice-chocolate cravings. By far the best I've tried. I'll stick to my chocolate comfort zone for now, until I become adventurous, someday.

Untitled II

Hi. Night Jess Minn talking. Night Jess Minn refuses to study. Night Jess Minn needs to study. Night Jess Minn has only one priority. Heh. One priority. Tautology. Night Jess Minn has to keep it going. Night Jess Minn does not even want to start. The whole cycle repeats. You start off feeling the body of it. Just the mass of it. And you give so much care, you handle it right the whole time, because you nearly messed up the last time. Day by day, week by week, the pace was just right. And then suddenly a tremendous weight consumes your entire being. Furiously. Before you even know it. You feel lost. You feel defeated. But what went wrong? You did everything right, and everything wrong. You did everything of both. Now do you keep it in care, or do you discard it along with all hope? You don't decide. Time does. Time does it all the time. And everything will be fine.

Yes, the whole cycle repeats. But I'm just so sick of it.
P.S. It will pay off.

Wallie goes to the beach

Two Saturdays ago we finally brought this little girl to the beach. I have been pleading my dad to bring her to the beach for the longest time so when I instinctively snapped out of my sleep and read his message that morning (get ready. going to the beach. Wallie included), I knew I somehow had to make it happen (mission would be aborted if not enough support). The Kuantan sun was scorching hot and I have yet to discolour from by previous beach trip, but of course I went anyway because offers like this do not come by easy. I coated myself with sunblock (and to soon realize, futile hope) and grabbed along Lynn's camera as it happened to be on the same table as the sunblock.

We brought her to Mehodist Bay, a quiet beach beyond the beach beyond the now very commercialized Teluk Chempedak (TC2) (Methodist Bay is some jungle away from TC2) (I think). This choice of location would have significantly reduced the risk of a disorder. No one was in sight when we arrived. Dad walked her along the beach while I walked far behind as my pace slows down with every ray of sunlight stabbing me. Also I was busy taking pictures. Lynn was way behind for whatever reason. Overall Wallie really enjoyed her stroll along the beach. She particularly loved to attack the incoming waves. You would think that she'll show some gratitude and behave well for at least a day after having a good time at the beach. You would later learn that she attacked her only dog-friend that very night because what if daddy loves the other neighbour-dog more? Silly girl.

Raw

If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is that I am generally not a happy person. Sure, I can easily find happiness around me but... I seemed to have surpassed my happy quota this week. Or month. Or year. I don't know. I had Spicy Chicken McDeluxe for lunch yesterday and I was happy but when I ate what I concluded to be overnight fries that happiness evaporated. I had Spicy Chicken McDeluxe for lunch today and I was happy for a while but again the fries just wasn't what I hoped to be.

Little things bother me a lot.

I feel disturbed but I don't know what is it. You know this voice in your head? Yes, this tiny invisible voice that made it possible for you to read. I vaguely remember being able to form thoughts with this voice in my head once upon a time. This voice was there. I was there. Right now, for some reason, I feel like its just clouds of thoughts floating inside my head. No voice, no actual words, just... A chunk of existence. Exactly. I feel as though I'm a mere existence.

Maybe it's just tonight. Maybe it's just the hormones. I've been trying to clean my room but it just won't get done. I've thrown out piles of junks but it's never-ending. I wouldn't know what to do with this, I wouldn't know what to do with that. And I'll end up like this being so bothered by not knowing what to do.

Post scriptum: I do realize that this space is overflowing with negativity and McD and my cleaning adventures. I'll try to restore balance in the force by making the next post a happy one.

I'll try to make the next post happy.




I'll try to make a next post.





I'll try.