Hygiene

Alas, it has been too long.  No, there are no excuses, only the reality of the situation.  Recently Hanan and I decided to exchange blog posts, reading them aloud to one another.  It was somewhat cathartic.  So thank you, Hanan, for getting me to write a little bit more again.

Senior year sucks.  Facing all these uncertainties: can I get a job here, where can/will I live, how am I going to do so, what about everyone else?  

The list continues...

Life never slows down.  It seems like I'm riding a bicycle down a slope, with the brakes malfunctioning.  The faster the wheels spin, my heartbeat reciprocates by matching in intensity.  I'm slipping, but that's life; you make do with what you got, and you do whatever it takes.

I'm burning out, and it's only been 3 years.  I can't blame school for it (well, I should assume responsibility anyway).  There's too much that I'm involved in, some by choice, some by obligation.

I've been stretched thin, and I can feel my arms pop from their joints, my jaw locked in dislocation, my diaphragm tearing as my breath grows fainter with each inhalation.  That's how much pressure I'm under.  I hide it well, because a leader needs to set an example for others.  If that means lying to their faces to keep their morale up, then I'll do just that.

But this isn't supposed to be a depressing post (sorry for ranting).  I'm just saying it as it is.  Warning: This is Fang flinging ideas at his editorial wall and seeing what remotely sticks.

I've been having mixed feelings about many things lately.  Words prance along my tongue as this dame twirls in front of me, and I don't know what to do.  

I'm probably just feeling lonely, in need of an emotional companion.  I'm not looking for a relationship, especially not in this time of uncertainty, just someone who understands me deep down inside.  I miss those moments with Sabr, as she gets me, every fiber of me.  

Yeah, that kinda makes sense.  Look at me, putting off studies, hosting a nationwide conference, applying for jobs, and potentially luxurious sleeping hours to write all these things down.

I'm just gonna end this post with this Ted Talk on "emotional hygiene".  It speaks in volumes, pertaining to emotional well-being.

Oh, and Better Call Saul is out, along with Archer Season 6 and House of Cards Season 3 coming out in a few more weeks.  Yep, I'm not gonna be getting things done!

My Type - Saint Motel

Turn

When the future is too muddled to see, I can't help but look back (and sometimes regress).  But I know I've gone far, and I still have fuel in the tank.

This semester has been honestly, pretty shitty.  I'm sure the preceding posts are indicative of that.  But you can't always get what you want.  All this hard work and strife will come good some day, I'm damn sure of it.

So I've had an uneventful Thanksgiving break, filled with damage control, classes and work; so I have a piling workload for the weeks to come plus finals.  I'll just have to face it.

Reiterating the wise words of the egomaniac Dr. Precival Cox of the medical sitcom Scrubs: "It doesn't get any easier; you just get better."

And I shall get better.  I would like to credit Seabird for their rendition of Sometimes, which is the reason behind this post.  At least lyrics still hold weight in this era of nonsensical bass-driven pop music.

Sometimes - Seabird 

Drop

Yep, I damn right dropped the ball.  In fact, I made it blatantly obvious, too.

Maybe I just wanted to play the villain for once, that I wanted to dip my feet in chaos and darkness, that I wanted to be branded the bad guy.

Or perhaps I just wanted to be noticed.

Yeah.  It was probably both.  

Never again, Fang.  Don't you bloody dare pull that off again.

Five Hours - Deorro

Falling

I'm still bogged down by stress and personal issues, emotionally and physically (I've been having back aches for almost a month now, not to mention significant hair loss).  Malaysian Cultural Night 2014 is officially over.  Yet I don't feel any sense of accomplishment.  

I danced my butt off, surprising many (which was great), had received good reviews from the AMSISU advisors on the play (I was the script writer), including H.E. Datuk Dr. Awang Adek Hussin, the Ambassador of Malaysia.

But it still doesn't feel right.  Perhaps it's because I wasn't acknowledged by my fellow peers, or that my name in the booklet was glaringly misspelled (Fang Hao Leong, anyone?), or that no one had taken the time to talk to me before, during or after the event (bar Yen Fei, thanks).

Because as much as I am a "renaissance man" to my professor (I'm his Teaching Assistant), Rob Hubert, I am but a forgotten man to others.  And as harsh sounding as it is, nothing I've seen thus far can disprove even a shred of this notion.

From the exclusion of the "Best MCN Committee Ever" photo by the Production Director, to the lack of respect shown towards me, and the teams of which I had worked with.  It just wasn't good enough.  Upon looking at Adli's reaction once the event had ended, it had only enforced the idea that I wasn't wallowing in self-pity; we were equally disappointed, and it didn't have to be conveyed through words.

Sometimes I wonder why the hell do I work so hard for others.  Am I really empowering others?  Heck, was there even moment of self-empowerment?  I can't say such things with confidence anymore.  

Pull My Heart Away - Jack Penate

Dip

Dipping Dots. That's the first time I've heard of that ice cream brand. I learned that over Tong Shao's memorial today. She was interning at that company, and she was going places, although I've never met her myself. Now I will never have that privilege.

Her memorial at Central Campus today was as tragic as it was beautiful; seeing so many friends, family and strangers gather for the mourning of one of our own is the utmost touching and painful thing I have witnessed in my two years here in The States.

As James Dorsett, director of ISSO said earlier today during her memorial: "A parent's only wish is that their children live past their age, but it's a shame when the old people outlive the young".

I immediately told my parents that I love them, and I'm overwhelmed by the guilt of not telling them this salient fact sooner, without any influence.

Now I sit here alone in my apartment, with a runny nose, my third bout of gut-wrenching waterworks, hoping to reach a drunken stupor. I'm sorry, but life is a damn cruel game.

Rest in peace, Tong Shao. Send Dillon Ruby my regards as well.

posted from Bloggeroid

Scrubs

Another short post to sequester (my favorite new word) the previous one.  I've liked everything about her: the poise, the wit, the panache.  I just don't love it.  Eventually, you learn to silence the loneliness by keeping yourself occupied.  It's just another coping mechanism, I suppose.

Thank you, Scrubs for teaching me more lessons about life.  I've been re-watching the series for the past three weeks now, and it was a pleasant surprise.  Behind all the slapstick humor and ridiculous, over-the-top gags, there was a deeper, underlying meaning to the show, something unnoticeable until I surpassed the 2 decade-threshold.

Also, it seems that I've grown less and less tolerant of the inefficiency of others.  Being in my Senior year has reminded me that this will be my last Fall season as a student.  I can't waste time dawdling on someone else's ineptness.  Soon, I'll experience my last snow skirmish, my last useful implementation of snow boots, and my last day as a student, and eventually my first day in the real world.  I'm getting queasy just by the thought of it... yikes!

Gonna try out the FIFA 15 Demo later today, once I regain the services of my gamepad (keyboard bindings can't be tweaked... idiots).  So far, the Ignite engine looks phenomenal versus the current-gen models.  Now, to bolt off for an early dinner before a three-hour-long committee meeting for Malaysian Cultural Night.

Oh, and happy Mid-Autumn Festival.

My Favorite Faded Fantasy - 

Damien Rice

Past

You know what?  Forget trying to be optimistic.  Forget fooling yourself into thinking that it'll work.  A partnership involves BOTH parties to come to consensus.  Ignore timing.  Ignore the outliers.  Ignore the statistics.  Ignore the compatibility. 

It all boils down to a spur of the moment, gut feeling.  And that's what despises me the most, because I am ill-equipped for spontaneity.

It's been like this for four years.  I suppose I can wait a little longer.

Trees - Twenty One Pilots