Time

*I initially wrote this intending to be a poem, but it sounded too cheesy.*

I just saw your smile, one more time, through a sheet of filaments and electricity.

My heart sinks, a tad, but still noticeable.  Yes, as much as I'd like to mute the pain.

Should I feel less? Want less? Know less? Care less?  No.  

That would just invalidate myself.

It is plain absurdity to feel so much affinity, that it is borderline fabricated as it is idyllic.  

I just need time to wrangle free of these thoughts and emotions.  I need to fall back to my grounded state, from love to friendship.

I need to just be a friend again.

Sleeping At Last - Masquerade

Hills

Hey!  Sorry for the lack of posts.  I've been out and about visiting relatives and just got back from a week of travelling between KL, Seremban, and Ipoh to visit the fam.  

I'll try to keep this space updated, however I will be moving back into Cafe 32 this week so it's gonna be hectic.  Here's one that I wrote when I was in Seremban, some 4,5 days ago.

I was bored.  Hours of playing video games and listening to my grandmother’s constant ramblings has finally grown stale.  My sister, as annoying as I find her, was unavailable to talk to as she was napping to nurse a growing illness of some sort.  There was no one else around, as I know nobody in my hometown of Seremban.

I needed to get out of the house.

But I’ve never been around Seremban on my own, plus there is no car for me to use.  So I decided to take a run around the neighborhood.  The problem was that I the housing area of Bukit Rasah was seldom covered.  Never has there been a need to map out these streets, until today.

Maybe I wanted to get lost, to rediscover a familiar setting.  So I did.

I laced up my yet-to-be-broken-in running shoes, prepped my Spotify playlist, and embrace the low-rumble of a remote thundercloud.  I figured if I needed any added motivation to run, rain would be it. 

And then I started.  Ran into a few dead ends, and looped around the hill twice.  Before I knew it, I ran far enough that I really felt lost.  The sun was searing into my cheeks, while rolling dark clouds slowly creeped over at the distance. 

I was alone.

That was a good thing.  I needed the time and space to think, to get away from my family.  So often did I have this… commodity when I was studying abroad that, the need for personal space was easily overlooked until my return.

Sure, there were times that the hidden (but ever-present!) band of wild monkeys or stray dogs got me peering over my shoulder more times than an innocent person should do.  Passing by the foliage of dense canopic overgrowth and banana trees had me sneak by, as to not alert anything (if any) living nearby.

By now, my calves were screaming from the constant incline and decline of my impromptu adventure.  And after circling the inner circle of the neighborhood for a good 25 minutes, I decided to call it a day.

I walked back home heavily breathing, drenched in sweat, muscles near-cramping, with a newfound appreciation for the housing area while I’ve took for granted: the old bungalows of over 50 years, to the newly built complexes of recent years.

Maybe I wanted to get lost, so I can find myself again, in an old place.  This time, as an adult with the world ahead of him.

Side note: Having access to exclusively Chinese shows really makes me appreciate the choreography put into any martial arts movie.

#88 - Lo-Fang

Parents

They want the best for you, they give you shit if you don't perform as expected.

Can I blame them?  For now.  Until I learn to become a parent myself.

Why, do you ask of this out-of-nowhere rant?  Because me meeting the undercarriage of the proverbial bus came out of the blue as well, a la parental nagging.

Age is but a number, but FUCK!  I don't feel like a 22-year old.  Perhaps my notion of moving out from my parents once I return is a figment of US culture that I've carried back with me, and many kids still live with their parents in an Eastern culture as it is financially beneficial.

Or it's because I don't like getting ordered around.  I still am not.  I probably won't be for a while.

Yes, I can't get compensation for my flight.  But HOW THE FUCK am I to know what can or cannot be done by the fucking airline, or whoever runs the damn show?  

You blame me for sitting idly by while this happens (because they need time to process the claim themselves) and I am only doing to my capacity and understanding.  Why the hell must informative and constructive criticism come with "I told you so's" and implied "proactiveness"?

All these thoughts, and I haven't uttered a single word throughout our entire "conversation".

Good talk.  Absolutely fucking brilliant piece of insight.

Fuck the song suggestion.  There isn't any for this.

Humidity

Sorry for not writing in a while.  A handful of things have been happening since my arrival.

I'm still reeling from reverse culture shock, as the overall command of English is as good as my command of Hokkein and Cantonese: straight up abysmal.  Even simple things like gated communities, serving senior members tea, and having double-notch locks are something I need time to get used to.

Somehow jetlag hasn't hit me as hard as anticipated.  Probably because I'm still photosensitive and will wake up the moment sunlight hits my face.  Humidity still sucks; I can't go an hour without feeling icky already.

Regardless, it's comforting to know that my dad (mom's out of town) is assuring with my plans for the future.  I was hell-bent to start working part time off the get-go while applying for full-time positions.  However, he is right to say that I need to slow down and get used to the environment first.

Yeah, I can't even work at the Starbucks in Damansara Uptown (literally 5 minutes of a walk away) because I'm not living at my original house now.  That was quite the shocker.  It was later revealed that the house is going through a massive overhaul due to termite infestations and we're currently living at Mutiara Damansara instead.

I suppose beating kids up at the playground (IN FOOTBALL!) would have to wait.

爱爱爱 - 方大同

aka

Love, love, love - Khalil Fong

Re-return

Three and a half years.  That's how long I have cumulatively been in The States.  Bar that 2-and-a-half-week return in December 2013, I've been so far across the world from family.  

It's bizarre to think I've left my American family behind for my Malaysian one.  But as Tim Tesar of Admissions had said, it isn't a "goodbye" as much as it is a "see you next time".

I've cried four times already.  Not in a "bawl your eyes out" kind of way, but the "hold back silent tears" routine.

Perhaps it's because I'm confident that I'll see them in the near future.  Or it could just be that I've yet to accept the reality of things.

Either way, I still love them.  All of them.  And that shouldn't change at all.

Malaysia, I'll see you in about 2 days.  My future lies ahead.  The scary, unforgiving, powerful, wonderful, beautiful future.

How Do You Do It - Empress Of

Terminal

They say that when everything is against you, that things can only be on the upside from that point onward.  I would like to think so, but on the flipside, I believe that you make your own luck.  

Upon approaching the check-in desk for my flight back home, it was revealed that I was required to have a Canadian visa to enter their borders.  Now, this wasn't going to be a problem, if I knew or had a transit visa, which was vaguely informed to me by the company I had booked my tickets with.

I won't be saying any names, but FUCK YOU, CHEAPOAIR.

What was worse was that I couldn't cancel my flight and get a credit (yeah, not even a refund!) because I had checked-in online, and the offices for airline concerned was only open for the weekdays.  Yeah, I'm livid.  I should be.  I was cheated, maybe out of naiveity, but also out of corporate greed.

So, I blew $1000 USD without even walking past the security screening.  Fuck me, right?  I had to arrange for an alternate flight, leaving at 5 am the following day.  Yeah, that flight was booked already, and does not go through Cananda (thank fuck!).  Instead, it'll be going to Shanghai, which has the reasonable transit policy of NOT NEEDING A GODDAMN VISA FOR A TRANSIT.

Wait until I explain this to my parents and attempt to build a case to get some sort of compensation.  That will be a hell of a time.

Even after sleeping it off for an hour am I still seething with anger.  And I haven't even talked about the remaining emotions I had/am experiencing.

Lies - The Heirs

Pitch

Today was my last day playing futsal (indoor soccer) with the group.  It was odd... seeing everyone playing "for me" (not my words, promise).  Spare me the judgement for this post: I seldom have a noteworthy post on playing football.

It didn't help that I was having an off-day.  My passes went astray, be it elaborate trivelas to simple square passes: either the passes were too heavy, or the ball wasn't struck at the right spot for proper distribution.  Perhaps I was distracted, although I didn't feel like that was the case.  Dribbling was slightly better today, with the occasional loss in possession (but that's normal in my game, sad to say).  I managed to pull off some fancy flicks, turning my defenders and rounding them... before botching the final ball.

As per usual, I grew more into each game as my body acclimatized to the demands of box-to-box running (at least I've my stamina and work rate to turn to).  My performance had to be compounded in the following game.  Via a quick counter attack, Ji Yeow had sent me through on goal with only James, the opposing defender to beat.  Seeing that James was hesitant to collect the loose ball, and knowing that pace was on my side, I pulled a quick shimmy and knocked the ball the other way, around him.  However, he had unintentionally impeded me and my standing foot was taken from below me by his trailing leg, leaving me clattered on the ground.  I did 2.5 barrel rolls and slowly got back up on my feet, expecting to have been (rightfully) awarded a free kick.  To my surprise and dismay, the majority of the group had claimed that I was simulating, and gave the ball to James.  I would lie if I said I wasn't somewhat upset, but I couldn't dwell on the diving call: I still had a game to see through.

Somewhere into (I think) Game 6, I had misread a low cross while tracking back, and guided the cross into my own team's net.  That deflated my spirits a bit, and I was goalie for the following game (since everyone else had played keeper once already).  That match was decent, with me playing spectator throughout processions as Boyce, our most athletic player, was on defender duty, crunching down on the tricky and pacy duo of Mun Wai and Eric.  I had even managed to psych Eric out (with my spontaneous interpretation of Jerzy Dudek's spaghetti legs) in a one-vs-one situation and saw his shot go wide of my near post.

I was then back to outfield duty, marauding the right flank to add some width to our attack.  Nearing the end of Game 8, we had received a corner after a deflected shot.  Seeing as my teammate was in the box already, I opted to just drive the cross low towards him.  With the slightest of touches, he managed to guide the ball to the bottom corner and won us the game.  I was ecstatic and did an awkward chest tap with both my hands, to (cockily, guilty) claim the heroics.

That performance had boosted my confidence, as I kept harassing defenders in the following games with what little energy was left in the reserves.  I had a goal-bound low drive deflected away from a pair of trailing legs, and linked well with the wide players whenever we went on the offensive.  Something good was about to happen, I could feel it (well, maybe...). 

During the last game, a rare bit of tiki-taka-esque movement saw four teammates (myself included) make its way to the opposition box.  Tightly marked on the right flank, Ben had laid the a cutback pass back to me.  Instinctively, the defender begun to push up to pressure me.  I was about to attempt a curler, swerving the shot past the oncoming player to an unsighted keeper, but noticed Adli was in an advanced position at the left side, unattended.  I played a shot dummy, with my shot-turned-pass sending Adli through on goal, in which he took it well.  Who would have thought, that I would have combined with Adli to produce a goal...

After the game, we exchanged hugs and handshakes, and proceeded for some routine cheeky McDonald's.  It's now 1.41 am and I'm waiting for the laundry to get done so I can shove them into my bags.  My back (and bag, I guess) is gonna get destroyed.

I'm probably gonna post another entry tomorrow, so I'll save the waterworks and wisdom until then.  Besides, I've already cried twice today already.

Gold - Chet Faker

Busted

Yesterday, I had the privilege to do this:

Indeed!  I got to see Adam Savage and Jamie Hyneman of the MythBusters TV show, a 14-year-long show off Discovery channel.  

Sadly, January 2016's season of MythBusters would be the last season of the show.  Thus, the two are back for a nationwide tour for their final hurrah.  The event included basic science experiments Being Jamie's Farewell tour, there were segments for individual Q&As as well.  The evening was full of science experiments (albeit basic ones like fulcrums, and pressure mats), including a show-and-tell of the tools Adam and Jamie have created (including Jamie's steel-toed shoes made from gas cylinder caps), and behind-the-scenes work done while shooting the show.  

I was in the very back end of the ground floor with Russell, in the shade

The night was capped off with a wonderful display of everything MythBusters: Adam and Jamie blasted (with paintballs) a fellow crewman, clad in medieval steel mail with custom paintball markers.  Adam had a heavy machine gun, and Jamie cheated by brandishing his quad barrel turret, reminiscent of WW2 anti-aircraft guns.  What made this a spectacle was the fact that the audience got to witness it behind a blast shield (kind of), with a POV-camera from the iron sights of Jamie's contraption.  Such a glorious ending to a show.

I know a couple of young aspiring minds had confessed their admiration to the duo on that night, but here's mine. To Adam and Jamie, thank you for being an inspiration to a young, bored teenage Malaysian boy to venture into the discipline of Science and Technology.  Granted I did not pursue a degree in Mechanical Engineering, but nevertheless, you two have cemented your spots as my lifelong idols, and my undying appreciation.

I'm With You - Grouplove

Raw

All I have now is raw emotions.  Unfiltered, unscripted, uncontrollable emotions.  I might regret it.  Hell, I should.  But I can't internalize this.  I'm not even going to delete any word I type down.

I love you.  There's no two ways about it.  This is my prerogative problem (stop trying to be sophiticated, Fang!).  Not yours.  So don't feel sad for me.  No pity, no guilt, no negative connotations.  Leave me to wrestle with my own emotional undoing.  It's not that you'll make it worse by helping: you'll make it better for sure.  

But I need to do this by myself.  If I'm ever going to have someone love me, then I deserve to be loved.  We accept the love we think we deserve.  Yes, I'm taking that quote off "Perks of Being a Wallflower", and it rings through true (goddamnit).

I don't deserve you.  Not because I am not capable, because I am.  I just don't believe that I'm capable.  

I'm not some good-looking person with the athletic (I still can't goddamn spell "athletic" right) build.  I don't have the charm of a smooth-talker, with the charisma to charm anyone.  

All I have is my sincerity, and my kindness.  My wit, my diligence, my loyalty, my self-sufficiency, my low-maintanence, my simplicity, are all expendable.  

I'm not angry at you: I will never be and you don't warrant that.  I'm angry at my inabilities to be a finished product now.  I understand that I'm a person-in-making, and I shouldn't compare myself to others.  I won't do so anymore.

I want someone to love me back.  I know I deserve that.  I just don't see it yet.

As for you, you brilliant, gorgeous, charming woman, you...  You better remind your man how blessed he is to have you for himself.  You deserve nothing but the most beautiful words, the most precise moments, and the most beautiful sights to compliment your whole being.

Because I can't love you as a lover, so I might as well love you as a friend.  And that's my problem; not yours.

*edited on 7 Jan 2019*. Sorry it took so long to realise that I needed to respect everyone in this story. I have since realized that this phase came from a moment of weakness and uncertainty, and that I've unfairly placed/dropped all my troubles and struggles onto a great person without thinking of the lasting consequences.

Hindsight does that to you. But I also wanted to take the effort to profusely apologize for my actions. I had ruined a friendship in response. And that's on me, which I'll carry with for the rest of my life.

So here's a note from an older, more mid-life crisis-er Fang: know what you want out of a relationship.

Is it for companionship? A quick fling? Marriage? Everyone has different perceptions of love. And it's never wrong to fall in love. It is criminal, if you don't know what you're looking for, though.

And above all, love yourself. Being with someone isn't about fixing yourself. It's about sharing your feelings and thoughts and life with someone you care for deeply.

Love furiously, love hard, and most importantly, love you. 

Miss You - Alabama Shakes

View

(I didn't know where to put this paragraph.)  Hopefully Hanan and Adli can piece together a nice travel vlog from our trip.

Portland has been charmingly weird since day one.  Street arts and stickers bearing the slogan "Keep Portland Weird" succinctly epitomizes the nature of the city.  

From Sam, the quirky cashier at Rocket Fizz, on her first day of work (plus the weird-ass candy and soda bottles in the store), to our free personality test offered by the Church of Scientology in Portland (which took waaaaaay too long), to the pastry oddities of Voodoo Doughnut, and the readers' paradise of Powell's Books (the biggest bookstore in the nation spanning five floors and an entire city block). I had only visited two of the eight-ish sections in the store in my hour-long visit there. Shame that my limited luggage space prevents me from buying any books.

And that's only day one.

*I felt that leaving the post at that would be a nice way to keep things short and simple.  I've tried trimming off the verbal fat, and it is still a honking pile of dry information.  But if you really, really wanted to know more about my trip, do proceed*

Tuesday was gloomy, with the rain keeping Portland in an overcast.  We messed around at Cathedral Park, under the St. Johns bridge, and by the Willamette River.  We traded the cold for the shelter of Portland's oldest church (literally, the Historic Old Church... imaginative, I know!), observing a Russian lady coaching young girls in playing the piano.  Sunset was upon us as we reached the Oregon Cultural District.  Deciding to revisit the district on a later time, we left for the food trucks on SW 4th and Alder St.  Being a sucker for Mediterranean food, I had falafels.  On full bellies, we did the Shanghai Tunnel tour, learning about Portland's history of slave trade of the olden times.  We finished the night off with hipster audiophilia at Everyday Music, followed by Union Square thrift shopping. The rest of the night saw us play Exploding Kittens (Juana got both the safe and NSFW versions) and save the world in Pandemic.

Hump-day had us pick up where we left off.  The group had visited opposing museums: Adli and I went to the Oregon Historical Society Museum whereas the ladies chose contemporary art.  The museum included a gallery on Portland's backstory, and included an exhibit on WW1 and WW2 for this year.  The exhibit opened up to the original documents of the Fourteen Points plan (proposed by President Woodrow Wilson  after the end of World War 1, which was rejected) and an Enigma Machine (used in WW2 to code and decode Nazi transmissions), including audio and video clips from the moment war broke out.  Two hours later, we had visited the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry (OMSI for short).  Due to time constraints, we did only the submarine tour in the USS Blueback.  It was amazing how a relatively small sub could fit 88 personnel, with congested walkways and instruments crammed into every nook and cranny permissible.  This was my personal vacation highlight: experiencing how a nval vessel works and the understanding the mechanics of how it works.  The end of the tour saw us meet with Portland's rush hour traffic.  So we had to forego our plan of listening to live music at Jimmy Mak's Pub & Grill.  

Thanksgiving day had us hiking Multnomah Falls and its neighbors. Although the second largest waterfall in America might be underwhelming when compared to first place Niagara Falls, it was a majestic view nonetheless. We struggled to hike Oneonta Gorge due to the fallen logs strewn along the 3-foot deep river (we didn't want to get wet). Adli's ineptitude in finding balance was quite the spectacle, as he slowly clamored from log to log on all fours.  That trek also saw me belly flop on a boulder in a misjudged attempt to climb it. Overall, hiking was still fun.  That night saw us gorging on turkey and lazing around for the night.

Which brings it to the finale.  The last day of our trip here and was a signal of things to come: my departure from the United States of America: that's baffling. But I'll leave that for another day.  We skipped the Macy's Holiday Parade, which was expected considering how much turkey we had consumed the night before.  We spent our last day in Oregon donating our extra food to the homeless, pursuing retail therapy in Woodburn, followed by a Vietnamese dinner at Luc Lac, hipster ice cream at Salt & Straw and last-minute postcard mailing.  It was a busy trip, but we definitely made the best of our time there.  There was even live music at the airport, so we did enjoy some music in the end.

Even our unexpected ten-minute cross-airport sprint in Detroit couldn't live down the vacation, despite us having to play victim to delayed departure and missing the flight as a result.

Franks Kaktus - Dungen

Broad

I'm working on the Portland recap still. So for now, it's a creative piece (with rhymes!).

Blitz the runway,
For a fading know.
This soul can't sway;
Time will still flow.

From a river to a mudslide,
Eventually this glow will subside.
It'll fade, with a slow bleed,
But what's inside can't secede.

It's energy.
Not destroyed, nor created, only transferred.
These words will then be heard.
By another entity, my lover: ferocity.

posted from Bloggeroid

Preview

As I peered out the window of the small jet, shrugging off a brief nap and listening to Rhett & Link on their Earbiscuits podcast, I'm met with an unfamiliar scene: beyond the veil of an 8 pm winter day, snow-capped mountains slowly pass by as the plane slaloms to an eventual descent. Beyond the mountains, lay the warm glow of Salt Lake City. I was in Utah, albeit only for a brief period. We were on transit to Portland, Oregon.

The view of a glistening city, poses a stark contrast of the largely spaced-out backdrop of a minimally light-polluted Des Moines. It got me wondering: why am I still travelling around the U.S., when I'll be leaving for Malaysia in a couple of weeks?

Why am I willing to spend time outside of self-learning and improvement, via online courses, and utilize the time to travel? Why am I somewhat okay with spending my parents money more, since I've been doing so in remaining in Ames, even though I don't have work authorization here?

Three things: because I can spend quality time with friends (in this case, with Adli, Hanan and Juana) who I can cherish for the longest time. And secondly, because I still have the capacity to see the world for its culture. Lastly, because I love my parents and am grateful for their uobringing of me. As such, I will repay them indefinitely.

Call this an investment for my personal development. Portland, here we come.

*edit: forgot to post this while in Utah. So I'm positing this in Portland*

Midway through my flight, I realized that I forgot to bring my facial wash. What made things worse was that the place had no toiletries, so I'll have to get some at Wal-Mart later.

The flight was less remarkable than the previous one, mainly because I unintentionally fell asleep and missed out on the complementary peanuts and apple juice. Damn it.

That being said, the place looks posh! We got it off airbnb and hopefully I can show it off when we make the travel video. Yep, I borrowed Justin's GoPro to film the trip.

posted from Bloggeroid

Bike

Day two of cycling: Fang can ride a bike.  So suck it, scarred-4-year-old-self!

Granted I can't consistently ride in a straight line or turn quick, but at least I'm not falling after my first pedal.

And then I rode on the pavement too quickly that I had to veer off onto the grass instead.  Baby steps.  But this might just work.

Now I got to learn up cycling in a city.  Nevertheless, promising stuff.

I Know It's You - Guards

Mole

I found out a few days back that my friends and I will be cycling extensively when we're in Portland, Oregon on Thanksgiving vacation.  Only problem being that I don't know how to cycle.  Shocking, isn't it?  Well, that's a fact now.

So today I had borrowed Yan Yao's bike to self-learn cycling in THREE DAYS, before we fly off to Portland.  Today was day one, and since it was wet and dark out, I took opportunity of the gaping emptiness of the living room to practice.  Day one's thoughts?  My pelvis hurts.  At least I can somewhat cycle straight.  Will need to practice outdoors tomorrow, when it's still bright out (sun sets at 5 pm nowadays...).

But that's not the main reason for this post.  I wanted to talk about the mole.  The less suave, more conspicuous one... resting on my nose.  Yes!  For the longest time, I had forgotten about it.  

I was exfoliating my face earlier to get rid of blackheads on my nose that I rediscovered the mole on it.  What a shock that was, to have such a defining feature gone unnoticed for so long.  It was a big "huh!" moment, which was a pleasant surprise, I guess.

I don't know...  Just found it amusing, that's all.  Also, I got my flight ticket for Malaysia already.  So in three week's time, life's gonna be a heck of a lot more interesting.  Shit.

Come On Eileen - 

Dexys Midnight Runners

Paris

Yes, this is a few days late, but I didn't actually want to talk about this. Not because I'm shying away from conflicts and whatnot, but because I do not want to misinform others or send the wrong message.

*Disclaimer. This is evidently an IMO (in my opinion).*

In case you were wondering, Paris had a mass shooting and hundreds of lives were taken, and ISIS claims to be involved in this. Around the same time, there were attacks in Beirut and Baghdad as well.

So Facebook had this thing whereby you can create a profile picture of the French flag in support of these hard times. And wrongly so (I'll get to my opinion soon), this angers many people, as the media only focuses on one matter. Besides those bombings and shootings, there were other tragedies which have occurred, with Japan and Mexico experiencing earthquakes, and the mass shooting which took part in Nigeria as well.

*edit on the following day. I'm just going to put an "et cetera" when listing locations, because it's just so important (sarcasm) to include everyone. Otherwise I'm just a one-sided person, you know? (waaaay more sarcasm)*

Basically, people are upset that we care more for France (because Facebook introduced that photo option). Can we blame France for that? Can we blame Facebook for that? Because it seems to be a case of egocentrism and ethnocentrism all over again. This... Is what ultimately upsets me.

If you can criticize me for valuing France over the others, then shame on you. I value all human life, be it from the north, south, east or west of Earth (and maybe someday, beyond that). Why can't I exercise my freedom of choice to support France? Who are you to come in and say that supporting them through a tough time is the wrong thing to do?

It doesn't mean that me supporting France leads me to forgo everyone else. Yes, I feel sad for Beirut, for Japan, for Mexico, for Nigeria, for Baghdad, for FUCKING Palestine and Israel! Does that mean that you're any better than me?

A resounding "no". So stop mucking about with false democratization of your own approval by cherry picking your friends or followers on social media and leading your own crusade to shun everybody else. Stop getting on your social media high horse and exclaim to the world be a better person, then expect to be revered as a rebel with a cause.

Just fucking act as a better person yourself. Pricks.

posted from Bloggeroid

Keeper

I just found out that former Sunderland Athletic Football Club goalie Marton Fulop had passed away today. What's more shocking was that he died of cancer at the age of 32.

Thirty two.

That's just a decade away from my age. All lives matter, and although I didn't know him or his personality, it is still a shame for someone to pass at such a young age.

Sadly, this news overrules the ecstatic rap that Jordan and I did earlier today at 2 AM Karaoke. We did Eminem's Lose Yourself, and some other songs.

Anyway, rest in peace, Fulop.

posted from Bloggeroid

Augment

I wanted to talk about my attempt on Movember, but as of an hour ago, it had been silenced by this.  Biohackers implemented light emitting diodes (LEDs) into their hands.  Why?  According to them, it's a gesture to embrace integrated tech instead of wearable tech.

Now, this is an interesting segment in a few ways: because first of all- what the hell is up with that?  Secondly, I'm blogging about an actual real-world application, and more importantly, it raises an interesting question.

When the time comes for humans to develop improvements that are not only a step above portable tech, but is mobile and ubiquitously accessible, what happens next?  

Humans as a growing species will always look to better ourselves, to strive for the next big thing: microbots become nanobots, intercontinental travel becomes interstellar travel, etc.  We are expanding ourselves further into the universe, getting smarter in the process.  Eventually, we will decide that in conjunction of looking outward to the stars, we should turn to ourselves and see how we can improve our physique.  I'm not talking about living a healthier life; I'm talking about prolonging life.  And that's a different ball game, as we have the capability (and the technological advancements) to diagnose some diseases at a younger age.  

Decades ago, mental health was swept under the rug as a seldom-ventured field. A whole slew of cancers were only discovered when the patient has reached its advanced stages.  Renewable energy was only reserved to the extremely wealthy, as it wasn't profitable back then.  Times have changed, and it will continue to do so.  The insatiable hunger for knowledge drives humans forward.

Personally, I think that integrated tech is an inevitability.  We have already started augmenting ourselves already via prosthetics for amputees, robot exoskeletons for the elderly, and increasingly intuitive tech.  Wearable tech might be an interesting thing for now, with the Fitbits, Apple Watches, "smart" clothes, but I am not completely bought over by these things.

Granted, the idea of sticking a coin-sized LED into my hand isn't exactly a pleasant idea as well.  However, integrated tech could be extremely important in understanding how our body works.  Imagine having a sensor in your blood stream which can display real-time compositions in your blood, monitoring cholesterol levels and whatnot.  I'll have to admit, I'm speculating at this point, but let's get creative with the potential improvements.  

The point is... we are slowly merging electronics with biological materials.  Biomedical engineering and 3D printing has laid down foundations to improve our healthcare and recovery from physical harm.  What if we can take it a step further and replace metal with computer chips?

Call me a fanboy of the Deus Ex video games, but it can't be denied that we're moving into a new age of on-the-fly technology.  Plus I haven't even gotten into the ethics of human augmentation.  That's a whole other dialogue to pursue.

Half Crazy - The Barr Brothers

Party

Today's been a slow day.  Slower than usual, which says a lot, considering how I have an overwhelming access to free time.  Stressed out, I took an afternoon nap, which did help the day pass quicker, although productivity just went down the toilet.

Justin is back today, since it is Veterans' Day (so there's no work).  His company was much appreciated, as we had Fish & Chips at the Mucky Duck Pub, plus I had someone to talk to.  Anyway, that isn't the purpose of today's post.  I'm here to write about the Murder Mystery Party I had a while back.

Yes, it's overdue.  That's the epitomizes my life right now: My affection is overdue.  My gratitude is overdue.  My shitty internet problems being addressed, is still overdue.

Okay.  Breathe.  Ah, slightly better.  Back to the party.

*Disclaimer: This is a description of how I formulated my version of the game*

So I devised my own murder plot and characters, loosely tied to the cast of BBC's Sherlock (to make costume design and decor much more feasible).  There are many ways to run your own murder mystery, but the progression can be generalized in two ways:

1) Round-based

• Participants have their own set of task(s) they need to complete in each round.
• After these tasks are met, they will report to the game master (usually the host/hostess).
• Once everyone's done with their tasks, the game progresses to the next round.

2) Free-flow

• Everyone starts off in a "learn as you wander" routine.
• This makes them the sole reason for their progression, as they will have to take initiative and hunt for clues.
• Everyone tackles the mystery at their own pace, with a time limit set.

Now, I chose the latter option when running the game, because it was more realistic to plan and execute in 3 weeks of planning versus the former.  Would I have changed it, if I had more time?  Absolutely.

There are pros and cons to both methods.  Having rounds means that everyone moves along with the same pace, and the flow of information can be slowly digested by the others in bite-sized chunks.  I feared that the rigidity of this structure would stagnate the pace of the game, so I opted out.  

Free-flow also had its flaws by unintentionally forming bands of people.  The quicker-to-deduce group would form up, and steamroll the rest of the participants, and the ones struggling would lag behind, and eventually give up altogether.  That was the biggest problem I overlooked.

A big factor to consider when planning for a murder mystery party, is how a lie can, and should be done.  Lying is part of the fun of the game, as it adds a layer of complexity to the game.  That being said, it is imperative for everyone to know under what circumstances is lying permitted or not.  

If someone was to lie about a core clue to the story, then it's just a terrible red herring for everyone.  And since everyone doesn't know that it is false information, then their approach to the game would be totally off.  For my party, the doctor had lied about his post-mortem results, and sent everyone in the wrong way by lying about the victim's cause of death.

However, I think everyone enjoyed the party, if not the idea of it.  So I've attached my "cheat sheet" for the murder mystery party here, in case anyone wants to refer to it.

I don't care one bit about copywriting or plagiarism (simply because it isn't that great, to start).  Just bear in mind that my party was flawed, so it would be wise to reinvent and build on this model than to straight up produce a carbon copy version.

The planning and execution phases are discussed via this link, and the biographies of all the characters are included via this link.  Should there be any questions, just contact me.  I'll be happy to help.

Happy hunting, and let the games... begin!

New York (Oliver Nelson Remix) -

Urban Cone

Yama

I was supposed to blog about the Murder Mystery Party (although the photos aren't uploaded yet) but eh... I'll do it tomorrow. Mainly because I'm still watching Pan's Labyrinth and would like to sleep soon.

I sold off my TV earlier today, and for cheap too, which of course is a bummer. So the hermit life isn't all so hermit-y now. Thus, I'm using my yet-to-be-sold monitor for a video output, with an external speaker hooked to the PS4 controller for audio output.

But enough about that. This is about Yama, or rather, the owner to Yama (he's a cat, not the Japanese God of Darkness of the same name).

It's odd to think how we're two best friends stuck on opposing ends of the same reflection, how we are both going through the same ordeal, albeit with a different set of people, in the same position of an alternative dimension.

It's bizarre. To think that distance separates us only by a micron of reality (if that's quantifiable). It is comforting to know that I'm not alone in this predicament, how we are on the same boat.

Well, not really. You have a cat named Yama.

posted from Bloggeroid

Spectre

Leave them unanswered.  Knowing the responses would just be worse.

Who are you to come into my life?

What did you to subject me to excruciating self-reflections?

Where do I go to forget about the thought of you?

When can I find someone else to forget about this?

Why can't I stop falling in love with you?

Do You Hear The People Sing? 

- Aaron Tveit

I

Damien Rice - I Don't Want To Change You

That's all I can muster for now. There's just too much to say and process, that I don't want to relive it.

Just leave me with this flare in my chest. Bursting with uncontrollable emotions.

posted from Bloggeroid

Film

Finally got that phone call from Savannah (I have been pestering her since last Thursday)!  Yeah, it was a brief 20 minutes; I wished we could talk more.  Cabin fever is setting in at an alarming rate.

I managed to agree, although only in principle, to offload almost everything in the living room to a couple of newcomer grad students: my office chair, study lamp, winter gloves, standing lamp, bean bag, couch, and even the coffee table.  I was gutted to know that I'm parting ways with all these things, and at such a low price of only $60 for all those things.  Even the TV might go this weekend, so I'll have to get creative with the PS4 afterwards.

But that's not the main reason I wanted to blog today.  I took Jordan's advice and watched Me and Earl and The Dying Girl, which was about the precarious adventure of a teenage boy, his best friend, and his relationship with this girl he barely knew who, you guessed it, was dying.  Without giving away too much of the plot (because you should go watch it), the movie was an emotional journey.

Working in tandem with the uncertainty of teenage life/quarter life crisis/me, the movie shifts back and forth through a melange of emotions: unadulterated joy met with a sudden feeling of dread, which was quickly quelled by the uncanny nature of the characters in the show.  It spoke to me profoundly.  And the final sequence of the show was beautifully done, not due to its aesthetic nature but from the artistic brilliance of how it was revealed.  I could only wish I was that profound in real life.

Actually, I wish I was more profound in my writing as well.  Yes, I have been told by some friends *selfless promotion* that I am an eloquent writer.  However, that's just one aspect of writing that I'm good at.  It is rather odd to know that I have no other writing style to a story, except to evoke my inner Michael Crichton wannabe when I do my writings.  

My style is that I like to describe things and the environment in intricate detail.  I can go on and on about how, for example, an oil on canvas painting may appear to a character, but I can't talk in psychoanalytic babble (good lingo, mind) of how a character feels.  Some people I know write so well, that I just want to sit down with them for an entire day and pick their brains.

So that one day, I can be well-equipped and knowledgeable enough to be an eloquent speaker, too.  I need to know how to say the wisest, most beautiful words to everyone I care about, so that they may spread the wonder of words to others as well.  Hmm... maybe I should have studied journalism...

Book Club - Arkells

Monologue

So Jon has left for Malaysia. It's kind of bittersweet, because on one hand he's a friend, and on the other hand I'm bereft of his narcissism and insults.

Moreover, Justin isn't around for the weekdays because of his job in Des Moines, which is about a 40-minute drive away from our current apartment in Ames.

Thus began my first day of having the apartment entirely to myself. I must say, it is liberating. Knowing that no one but myself is accountable for the maintenance of the place indirectly translates to me having the place set up to my liking.

However, seeing as I'm blogging at 1.37 am (after daylight savings had us gain an hour), there are some minor drawbacks. The most notable one being a lack of social interaction in person.

Besides my venture to the grocery store in the afternoon, I have not made verbal exchanges to anyone else. Today was probably the least amount of words I have used in the past two decades of my life, even when I talk to myself.

It's interesting, to say the least. Hopefully my phone call with Savannah tomorrow would liven the mood. Back to trying to sleep.

posted from Bloggeroid

Huh...

"Proximity only governs the simple relationships".

Damnnnnn, someone's getting wiser!

I'm starting to like my brain at 4 am in the morning.

posted from Bloggeroid

Revamp

So thanks to a little hiccough about a friend posting something on my blog's comment box (cbox) *cough Danny cough*, I needed to tweak my cbox.

This simple process took me 15 minutes to figure out because now comment-editing in the cbox is for premium users only (the free version lost a lot of its once-accessible perks). So I had to completely scrap the previous cbox, and create a new, cleaner one. Hopefully it'll stay that way.

Since I was at it, my needless tinkering made the color scheme lousy, so I revamped that as well with a new, standard layout. It kinda sucks that I'm ditching the green (since it's my favorite color) for this new orange feel, but since Blogger has an orange-colored logo, I'll let this one slide.

Plus, I've renamed the blog title to make it more sensible and less dramatic (it was "Gone with the Wind, Found in the Mist" last time... too much theatricality there). I still can't change the damn URL, but I suppose you can't win every battle.

Also, I've just purchased Broforce off Steam (which is a great party game) and have started playing Mad Max. So far, the latter's a lukewarm experience, but I'll still play it because it's open world.

And I'm still waiting on Neil to upload the Murder Mystery Party photos. Once that's up, I'll write about the event. It went well, but there were glaring errors once I ran the game. More on that next time.

Sharks in the Swimming Pool - Clairity

Idea

"... i remember a quote off somewhere. just cause you both like the same videogames doesn't mean you're perfect for each other. something along the lines of that. you seem to like her, but you also seem to really like the idea of her."

No truer words have been spoken. Whoever you are out there, I am going to love the hell out of you. Because 100% is the least I have.

posted from Bloggeroid

Hold

Okay, this would be another dreary self-question, so there's my warning shot.

Obviously this thought process spawned from the show which is Donnie Darko, and my boundless brooding.  Anyway, the show got me thinking about my "darkness", what Michael C. Hall's "Dexter" persona from the TV series of the same name would label as his "Dark Passenger".

I don't know how to describe it, except for the fleeting feeling you have when gravitating to a lone lit candle in the pitch black shade of night.  The flame is welcoming, as much as it reminds you of the clout of darkness lingering just outside light's influence.  It flickers, it dances in front of your eyes, beckoning you to come closer.  Without question, you comply.  And as you reach for the flame, you realize that you yearn for its existence as much as you want to deny it, for the growing fear of its potential.

That's my darkness.  I don't know when I've had (or developed?) it, but it's been around.  It's not like having a devil on my shoulder and an angel on the other, but it's more like having copies of myself fragmented into emotions.  My darkness is only seen when I look over my shoulder; he stands there, silent, and just looks on.

My first encounter was when I was around 16 years old.  Long story short, my friends and I were mugged one day after school, as this middle-aged man had intimidated us to surrender him our cell phones (I had none at the time).  Right after he left with the goods, I was consumed by this hatred.  It wasn't just that uncontrolled resentment to have ill-wishes for someone; I had malicious intentions.  I wanted to catch this guy, and really hurt him.  

I wanted to show him that the fear I had from his tough exterior and tattoos does not overshadow the (then-misled concept of) loyalty I had to my friends.  And although it had happened only for a brief time, there was no denying that I experienced my first genuine intention to inflict pain on someone else.  That was a terrifying experience: not to fight someone else but to fight yourself, to question your own trust.

I've only begun to acknowledge its existence when I started consuming more media on the darker side of life (although some of it is clearly fictitious).  Crime shows (CSI), murder mysteries (NCIS, Hannibal), etc... those lot made me realize the manifestation I am carrying within.  But it is a confusing thing to have, because part of me embraces it as much as I scorn at its existence, too.

And the worst thing about this darkness is shown by its tendency to corrupt the good.  I fear that on rare occasions I might be susceptible to that behavior, to observe how other people's light cope with the darkness which surrounds them. It is not out of bad intentions, but curiosity instead.

So here's the bigger question: how am I to share the whole of me with someone else, when this bad thing is part of me?  How can I risk hurting someone else, and let them see this - dare I say, evil that lies deep down inside?  How can it be fair for me to put this negativity out there, where it could lash around and injure those around me?  Is it selfish to think I'm the only person fighting with the inner darkness?  Is it wrong to think I'm gravitated to your darkness, because it might be a familiarity?  I'd like to think you have that darkness, because I want to be there with you, in the abyss.

All these questions...  and I've yet to even engage someone with these deep conversations due to its controversy, and the large ramifications which may follow.  I'm afraid to show people this side of me, because even I don't fully understand it myself.  

You could argue that I've mental disorder of sorts, and I would more than likely agree with you that I have some issues to work on.  I'm being realistic here: about half the population of the globe has experienced depression some point in their life (and I've been going through some recently - I just didn't diagnose it until recently). But here's my retort: which would you rather have as an issue: something tangible that affects others, or something intrinsic that only affects yourself?

And here's an honest question to cap this off.  What are your thoughts?  I am honestly curious what others feel/think.

Only One - John Butler Trio

Dark(o)

Finally took Jordan's advice to watch Donnie Darko (I watched the Director's Cut).  And my verdict?  My head was spinning at the end (probably because I couldn't wrap my mind around the conclusion).  But that's a good thing.  The movie took its time to incorporate so many elements into the plot, interweaving it with the surroundings of Donnie Darko, the main character.

Plus, it was different from what I was used to watching, where the director would include subtle hints or clues into the various sets of the shoot; Donnie Darko was unique in the sense that you feel the dread.  Or at least, I did.  Believe you me, I had to Google up an analysis of the show to fully understand the ending, but that's always a good thing, to have that "oh, right!" moment.  That's what constitutes a good show, in my opinion.

So yeah.  Go watch it.  I'll write another segment of how that movie made me feel.  Also, I'm considering being a part-time freelance writer.  But after a quick snapshot of the job positions out there, it seems that most of the employers are looking for travel journalist, like those you would read to visit a region.  Now, I've never properly traveled around Malaysia myself (something I'm aiming to rectify) so I can't write on those things with accuracy.  Furthermore, I don't think "highly opinionated football analyst-cum-short story writer" is in most job descriptions.  And let's be honest: this blog is in no shape or form, presentable, let alone to be shown to potential employers as a "hire me" piece.  

But who am I to sell myself short (I'm not, mind you)?  Ideally, there would be a job for me to look into writing critiques for movies, or for football analysis.  I wouldn't mind that one bit.

The Wanderer - Dion & The Belmonts

Kills

A little more of me died the further I read into this article on depression and anxiety. It kills me inside that I can't be there to help my best friend. 

She is stuck halfway across the world, and I am powerless to help her. She has battled depression since I've met her, and yet there's not a simple solution to curb this problem. It's been five years now. And although relatively speaking five years isn't long, compared to a lifetime, read that article and think again. 

If you know anyone going through a tough time, be there for them. You don't need to know what to do; just be in their presence. Listen to what they have to say. I have to be strong for her. Because if she can't see all the good in her, I must be there to shine a light. I need to be her light, even in my own darkness.

For she will do the same for me. Out of love, for a friend. 

With a heavy heart, may you be safe. And if I can't be there in your worst, then I don't deserve your best. And it is unquestionable and irrefutable, that you are the best. I will do everything possible, to remind you of that salient fact. That you, whoever reads this, be it the one, or the one hundred, are amazing.  Even if you don't believe it yourself, I do. 

For you, a thousand times over. 

Shine A Light - Banners

Comparison

I want to address what happened last night. It was no one's fault. Heck, I bawled my eyes out for a record-breaking 30 minutes. I didn't say it had been a pretty-looking catharsis. That was me, tossing and turning from being overwhelmed by many things.

First, I've just started coming to terms that I'm saying goodbyes to my friends, realizing that I'll be halfway across the world, and I might never see them again.

Second, I've been struggling with love, or whatever than means. I have not fallen this much for someone before, and I still can't call her my own, because she doesn't feel the same way. I don't know what love means (when it comes to a partner), because I've never felt it from someone else, outside of my family and close friends.

Thirdly, I miss my family. I have been away for so long that my baby cousins have grown to be toddlers, that toddlers are now in school learning basic information. I missed all of that, being there to tell everyone how I feel.

And lastly, I've been foolishly drawing comparisons to the world. As such, I was always selling myself short, rating myself unworthy, unsatisfactory, not good enough.

Perhaps that's why I can't find love. Because I don't fully love myself. Yeah. That sounds logical.

On another note, I had my unofficial testimonial football match today with the Malaysians. Didn't play my best, but it was definitely a great day. Plus, I think I might have a groin strain from all the lung-busting running. That's a good thing.

Here's the pic.

posted from Bloggeroid

Burn

I'm dying from an emotional turmoil. It's been a long time coming. But I'm starting to bade some proper goodbyes, and it'll only get worse from there.

My chest feels a force jamming it inward, and my side burns with a slow, seething glow of pain. I'm burning up inside and this fire is growing stronger, more violent, and I don't know if I can contain it.

I'm falling apart and it's just too much to bear right now. I've just been busy for so long that I've never had the time or energy left in the day to go through this. And now with the luxury of time, things are just overwhelming me.

I don't want to be alone. I just don't. So let me be vulnerable, for this time. Don't question me, just... let me be. This is my only request for you, dear friend, on this post.

posted from Bloggeroid

Rival

How can you live with yourself, knowing that your rival has beaten you at everything. That they've done all the things you've done, or want to do, only better?

I'm tired of being second-best. I'm tired of not living to my potential. I'm tired of not being my own unique person.

You've even taken my individuality from me. Now, I'm more machine than man, a standard issue construct churned out by society's idealism.

So what am I now? What am I but boundless potential amalgamated with unproven abilities? What are you? A rival? Dare I say an enemy? What??

Ah. Sorry. Brief ambiguous rant there.

On a sidenote, Pan (the Peter Pan remake), was terrible. So thanks for taking me out, Jordan. At least we had the same view on it.

posted from Bloggeroid

Martian

Referring to my previous post, I couldn't donate my plasma as BioLife needed clarifications from my hospital about my condition (since I have daily prescriptions, had been admitted to the hospital in the past year, and whatnot).  I'm still waiting for them to get back to me.  Some lunch money would be nice.

Disclaimer: The incompetent piece-of-ass of a bullshit router provided by the property management, which consistently upsets me further, is making this post much more aggressive than it sounds.  So screw you, useless DSL cable router.  Malaysia's connectivity isn't even as bad.  Cons of internet service monopoly by ICS Advanced Techonology in corporate America (sidenote, capitalism is not something I remotely fancied... more than ever now).

Moreover, I just watched The Martian (the movie).  It was pretty good.  And if I were to be very harsh, the book was better *mic drop*.

Now, to the actual reason for this post.

You know how I hate love hate when people insist that they know me.  Because the more you lead yourself to believe you know me, the more it just sounds like your narcissism filling in the gaps to what you think you know about me.  

It royally pisses me off that I have to correct you (in plural, subtle hint) for notions about me, before I even say a word to you.  Would it kill you to just listen and not insert a witty remark or a smart quip in every goddamn sentence I say?  Here's a crazy idea: listen to the full story, and what I have to say, and then formulate your questions.

If I had a reason to lie to you about anything, then why would I bother telling you about myself?  I'm not bloody in it for the glory.  And if I was that arrogant, then I'd be talking on a social media platform, and not in person.  If I wanted to lie to you, then I would have said "you're right".

That you're right about my life, about my choices, and my aspirations even when my thoughts had came first... from my own fucking brain.

So piss off.  Really.  I don't want your opinion.  

You'll damn well know if (not when) I do.

Fight For Your Right - Beastie Boys

Together

Okay, so nothing big has happened in the past 24 hours, but I'm starting to really flesh out the details to the murder mystery and it's getting exciting!  Shame that I can only find inspiration during my bed time.

Jon and I will be going to Bio Life tomorrow to donate some plasma, in exchange for some side money.  So we'll see how that goes.  I'm excited, as this would be a new experience.  The money is a bonus (really).

Plus my ankle's yet to fully recover because I've been going running in the past week or so, thus not giving it enough time to heal completely.  Feels like it's about 90% there, which is encouraging.  Just can't do no spring jumps yet.

10 Bands - Drake

Space

You know, I can be very tolerant, and thus will keep things to myself sometimes. Plus, I'm more than willing to spend time hanging out as buddies whenever.

But that doesn't mean that you can butt into my sessions whenever you please, thinking that I'll be okay with it. I want my personal space and frankly, you're invading it.

I simply wanted a relaxing, stress-free, no-nonsense gaming session by myself and not have to deal with another teammate (in FIFA) bickering about every call and mistake made (be it me or otherwise). Moreover, as harsh as it is, you are not up to my level and that upsets me even more because I have to compensate for what you lack.

There, you brought out the harsh truth (and meanie) in me. Now I'm upset that I wasted two hours playing babysitter to a lousier gamer who "isn't competitive enough" to play versus with me, or get better at the game.

Rant. Over.

posted from Bloggeroid

Auction

Well, not really.  Although I wished it could be an auction.  What's going on?  I'm offloading my belongings.  So I'm giving my friends first pick at the things before posting it on Facebook and whatnot.

It looks like packing all my things into two suitcases might just be feasible after all.

On a sidenote, I realized that I'm really, really bad at follow-ups to my blog posts, and life updates, in general.  So here are the biggest four:

1) About the what-was fallout some 10 days ago, we're back to being good friends now.  And honestly, it is as surreal as it is most heart-warming.  Here's an excerpt of what my best-friend-and-therapist-for-five-years Sabr had to say:

"It could be (that) you're projecting these feelings towards her because yeah, you guys would probably be great together, cause you're already great friends. but not every girl like that is one you should date.  After you move past that, you probably have a friend for life. friendships tend to last way longer than relationships anyway."

Yep.  My best friends are good at making me look stupid.  Definitely a welcoming trait.

2) I am leaving The States in the coming months. I’ve yet to purchase my flight tickets, but I’m looking at mid-November or November-end to depart.  

3) I'm seriously contemplating this crazy trip around The States before I head home (see point #2).  There's a few stumbling blocks, aside from my sometimes-clueless self to worry about.  Those factors include timing (because this will take about 15 days, and I've gatherings with friends and seminars to attend to in between), and an obvious lack of people to travel with (see former point).

4) I just had to, had to (double emphasis!) share this bit of poetry, from my Facebook stumbles.  Why?  Because I love poetry, and it is romantic as shit.  Take a gander and appreciate it as well.

Jaded - Disclosure

Murder

So I'm planning on hosting a murder mystery party sort of as a farewell party of sorts.  After sifting through almost 4 hours of reading material via the Google, I'm no closer to figuring out what to do.  This post is pretty much my break session.

All I know is that I'm gonna have it loosely themed after Sherlock Holmes, and that looking up "murder", "spider" and "diagrams" led me to the dark side of the internet.  Well, that sure scarred me for today.

On a separate note, my ankle is still recovering, albeit slowly due to last week's football session.  I'm no longer wearing the ankle brace, as it gets darn itchy.  I still can't make sharp turns or put a lot of thrust in a toe-lift-off, but at least I can do high-knee jogs to work out a little.

I should get back to my plot devices soon, since I'm not being productive with offloading my belongings before I go home.  Plus, I've filled my schedule up with the sporadic lectures featured by Iowa State.  

I managed to attend my first lecture conducted by Frank Abagnale, so that was great.  You know that movie "Catch Me If You Can"? That's based off him, one of America's most wanted conman under the age of 19.  Yes, 19 years old.  It was intriguing to listen to his life story, and how it differed from how Steven Spielberg had portrayed it in the movie, including the repercussions of his actions when he was younger, owing the U.S. government over $4 million.

Regardless, he is a remarkable human, not for his past, but for his resourcefulness and ingenuity.  Since then, he has contributed to many fraud-prevention systems that are still implemented in many companies in the Fortune 500 list, in over 80 different countries.  

An odd way to end this post, but meh.  I'm on "Scatterbrain Mode" now.

Bad Blood - Ryan Adams

Borscht

So the recent World Music and Food Festival happened over at Des Moines.  It was my first time there so I guess I was somewhat pumped.  My recovering sprained ankle wasn't as keen.

The final verdict: I wish there were more European cuisines to eat, and less (or no) American food stalls.  The borscht was amazing, but then again, I love borscht.  The Ethiopian booth had pretty good food as well, in generous portions, while the Dutch booth had Dark Chocolate ice cream, which was great.  Didn't try the Asian countries' food at all, because I've had enough of that.

We didn't stay for the fireworks, but that's all right.  We left sometime around 6 pm, and I passed some things over to Liang, since I need to offload everything anyway.  Kinda bummed that I had to part with my Logitech gamepad, as that means I can't play any platformers anytime soon.

I also tested out my recovering ankle earlier today with a football session.  Definitely not up to full fitness yet, as it hurt even with a turn of the ball when my ankle is locked facing downward.  It was also apparent throughout the game as I played pacifist in a contact sport, making zero tackles.

At least I can still dribble a little.  Managed to score a goal today by turning Adli inside out before slotting a shot past Jon, the goalie.  I couldn't contain my joy and made an awkward double fist pump to the ground.  Yay for small things.

What Do You Mean? - Justin Bieber

Post

I'm not angry, no. Not upset, or annoyed, even about my actions dialing a few days back.

I am actually very surprised and confused at myself for making those decisions. And it took some reflective sessions and proper conversations to realize that.

So thank you, friends (you know who you are) for being there when I needed you most. Thanks for showing me my finer qualities, and for being open with me, to me.

Onward and upward.

posted from Bloggeroid

One

Here's a story. Because I need a coping mechanism. Plus, this isn't wholly accurate. So ignore it.



A dream and an abrupt waking kickstarted his mundane week. His exceptionally monotonous, bland, unemployment-ridden week.

He rolls over to his side, groaning, reaching out to grab his phone, laying just a few inches from his face, and checks the time. He taps on the phone screen, and the room glowed from the faint (but still uncomfortably bright) beam of light emitting from his phone:

4:02 am.

God damn it, he thought. He had only begun to sleep at 1 am (his routine nowadays) and his sudden awakening only meant one thing: his troubling thoughts got the better of him. For the umpteenth time.

He flips his phone shut, rolled onto his back, and started staring at the ceiling as he hears the wind whistling through the small opening in his window (he likes the ventilation). He knew what to do next.

This seems to be second nature nowadays, like he has developed his own psychoanalytic routine. He takes a big breath, exhales slowly with his eyes closed, and clears his throat. It's been a while since he's had to run the whole talk-out-your-problems exercise. With his hands cupping the back of his head, he started:

"Look, you messed up. She was not into you and had her own set of emotional problems to deal with. You could have kept it to yourself, like all of the other beauties you've met, but nooooo; you chose to be selfish for once and chose to satisfy your want at her emotional expense."

He closed his eyes, took another deep breath, and listened to the chirps of crickets outside. Let's be logical and rational now, he thought to himself, as he slowly reopened his eyes to adjust to the darkness. The room seemed more visible now.

"This is why you can't date your friends, man. If it works out, great. But has it ever worked out? That's a resounding "no", buddy. And what happens should (a very likely) rejection come out, well you'll need to start boarding the "Awkward Train" to Limbotown! Because things can't possibly be any less weird now."

He curses under his breath, clearly annoyed at his own ineptitude in dealing with his emotions. Sometimes the practice of emotional compartmentilization has its usefulness. Tonight's a startling reminder of that.

"You got close to her, became good friends- well, at least you see her as a good friend, and decide to make more than what you already have? I mean, come on! You had a good friendship, one with a girl, and that's really hard to come by for a schmuck like yourself, being all reserved and whatnot."

Another deep sigh, as he massages his forehead, pinching it while he shifts his body.

"Now let's play this out logically: she has told you that it's awkward for her and would like to remain friends, but we know this can't be forgotten. You don't fare any better. Heck, you're clueless and powerless on what to do next. So you guys do the thing that you don't want to do- which is to go your separate ways."

"Now you can somehow figure out the whole emotional compartmentilization thing and get on with it, so let's not worry about yourself. This isn't about you; it's about her. You don't know how she'll take it, and that concerns you, even though YOU don't want yourself to care about her, because you'll further complicate things."

Another deep breath, as the silence is disrupted by the rustling of tree leaves, swaying with the cool breeze of an ending summer.

"So what do you think happens? You leave her company as a friend-turned-more-on-his-own-accord thing, and she moves on with life, bearing this as some form of emotional baggage (because she has feelings, and you gave her that problem, you inconsiderate person)."

"You two will take time off interacting with one another, grow apart, and leave it at that. You, will fear that rekindling that friendship could lead to an escalation of sorts, so you become timid and cautious. And thus you might miss out on what could have been a great friendship should you not have fell for her."

He repositions his legs and glances over at his phone again. It's 5:08 am now.

"So was it worth it? Let's leave it at that, shall we?"

He forces a smile (out of disbelief, obviously) as he rolls onto his side, burying his face inside his pillow, and goes back to bed. Needless to say, getting back to bed might take a while. He wishes sleep was his biggest problem now.

End...?

posted from Bloggeroid

Who

Seems that love isn't for me right now (meaning for the past 4, 5 years). Things just act like square pegs in round holes, and (somewhat) simple stuff just get jumbled up into this rubber band ball of a mess for me to untangle.

Such is life, I suppose. Besides, what I'm looking for now is a companion. Can't you tell I've been slowly introduced to Doctor Who? David Tennant plays him well.

Until the next post, alons-y!

posted from Bloggeroid

Hat-trick

My right ankle was feeling funny before the game, but as it progressed it got worse from getting tackled from behind. Hobbled for a bit, but ran it off anyway. After reassessing it post-game, it might be a mild sprain-like knock. It should be fine within a day or two.

My other ankle connected with Justin's studs as we contested for a loose ball. And my left knee feels a little off when I apply pressure on it. Probably due to being tackled from behind yet again when I was planting my left foot for a volley.

Yep, just another honestly fun day playing football. Did I mention that I scored a hat-trick? One shot, one goal. Finally picking up some good form.

posted from Bloggeroid

Control

Lately I've been blogging quite a lot. I suppose it's a good sign: it means I'm letting out more and not bottling it up inside.

I wanted to write/talk about control. Mainly, emotional self-control. That might be having the discipline to not say the hurtful things when annoyed, or to not raise your voice and lose your temper when upset.

Discipline, to me, is what sets you apart from others when dealing with the pressure life constantly hurls at you; it is what makes or breaks you from being a better, bigger person (and not in a derogatory way that undermines others).

It is proven psychologically that children raise their voices to gain attention. This however, usually degrade's one's position, as it subconsciously shows the compensation taken to cover up their mistake.

When faced with an unfavorable situation, the best way to tackle the issue is to be calm about it. If someone insults you, it would probably be more beneficial to understand their reasoning behind it rather than going defensive and shooting back insults. The latter always leads to escalation, which is a huge no-no in any conflict situation.

The best way, is to take the verbal punishment, and tolerate it. Be calm about it, and speak with composure. Now, it's also good to speak your mind if you don't want recurrences. Note to be careful of what you say, as in the end, it's always a case of respect.

Everyone, including the robber in that dodgy alleyway, wants respect. Although sometimes they don't deserve it, it doesn't mean that you have the right to take that away from them.

Needless to say, this post stems from an altercation between two of my housemates regarding money one owes the other. Yes, it's a sensitive topic, which is why it should be approached with care, respect, and control.

Thanks to my gift of having ridiculous amounts of empathy, I'm adversely affected, too. Just had to ruin my damn day.

So keep your emotions in check. Don't go ruining someone else's day. You might deserve it, but they sure as hell don't.

On a sidenote, I feel like I should write another short story soon. Seems like I'm missing that: emotional rant - check, life update - check, poetic/ambiguous segment - check, short story of randomness - pending.

Well, onward and upward.

posted from Bloggeroid