Your satisfaction on someone else's expense

I am in denial of all the other more important stuffs I have to write. I want to babble my sweet not-working-Monday first. Such sweetness is not always available to be tasted often. Just for the sake of a topic: the poll I mentioned in my previous entry. I have ‘edited’ it a bit—throw some of the options away and rearrange them. The new arrangement has nothing to do with level of importance or whatever. I just want it to flow this way.

So here goes. The poll is simply

I want to be:

1. Alone!

To tell you the truth, I had enough of the times when I was too young that I always thought I wanted to be left the hell alone. There gone the times when I feel nobody understands me and hence the feeling of wanting to break away from the whole world and just live inside my own little universe. It was a childish thought. Because I know at that time, though I said I wanted to be alone; I was actually dying for a companion that could understand.

Ps. it’s remarkable—the way you understand me… thank you…

2. Rich!

Do I really want to be rich? At one point, yes. The first thing that crossed my mind on this point was having the power to buy everything that I wanted and wished to own since I was ‘old’ enough to know money. We are, to an extent, the generation of consumers. We were born trained to want the things we don’t need.

So when people say: money can’t buy you happiness; we already know that while that’s true, life without money will mean endless hardship that will be too challenging to even let any form of happiness to bloom—that is if it survives long enough for it to flower. So do I want to be rich? I just want to have enough money to survive achieving some of my dreams. And currently, I think I do need more money. Darn.

3. Strong!

Strong at heart and strong physically, of course! I want to be like my Iron Lady. She’s the strongest lady I have known yet. Cheesssh, corny. She can lift things that I know some boys can’t even move. She can endure things I doubt I can stand long enough to be like her—boiling water, cuts from big knives, the worst stench, handling a good old business for decades. Owh, owh. I almost forget: surviving a life so tough and challenging, especially as a single mother to four ungrateful bastards.

4. Lost!

I don’t want to be lost. Seriously. I don’t like being lost. I like to know where I am going, where I will be going and where is the route to where I am going. Literally and metaphorically. But sometimes, don’t you wish you are lost so that someone would find you? Haven’t you ever found you purposely making yourself lost for someone to find you? *raise eyebrows* Maybe not.

5. Cured!

I want to be cured from all the heart-diseases I have. I really wish this is possible. I realized how awful to have a heart that is able to hate, a heart that is full of doubt (that the act of trusting requires a constant-conscious effort), a heart that is filled with scars (that I myself won’t let it be healed—I keep on poking it until it bleeds again), a heart that is unable to forgive. I hate myself for having this heart marked with so many black stains. But hating it will only make it worst. So, try to wash it bit by bit, I will… *yoda styleeee*

6. Carefree!

I wish I am carefree. I wish I am the type of person that doesn’t mind the voices from the back seats of my own ‘car’—telling me things I don’t want to know or things I already known but said in a different way to ignite that hatred inside me. I wish I am that type of person that doesn't mind any insignificant-to-my-benefits voice at all.
But, truth be told, I don’t want to be too carefree that I lost the understanding of much deeper things surrounding me.

7. Free!

I think I am free. This freedom that I feel is enough freedom I could wish for. At some point, I do feel that it can be a bit too much. But that's a totally different point.
Bila kita fikir dalam-dalam, memang sungguh bertuah kita lahir di sini. Mak aku pun datang jauh-jauh dari Indonesia mencari tempat di sini hampir 3 dekad dulu. Kalau kita pasang telinga betul-betul, banyak gila sebenarnya complaint tentang kehidupan di sini berbanding di negara lain dari orang-orang sekeliling dan mungkin dari diri sendiri juga. Barangkali kita lupa, permainya negara kita ini, tiada tempat yang lebih baik dari sini—sebab di sini lah tempat yang kita panggil ‘rumah’, ‘tanah tempat tumpahnya darah’.

This morning I was woken up by a very loud noise from several choppers with our flags on ‘em. Sweet. I wonder what caused me the chill, actually. The feel of patriotism or the view of the choppers. I want to be: a pilot!!! (once was a big dream of mine)

"Aaa yiu sitting kumfatoub-liee baut tuu skue fut on yioo botiee? den wil bigin"


Oh can't you see
Holding on to my heart
I bleed the taste of life
We Carry On-PORTISHEAD

NOW THAT'S WHAT I CALL MUSIC.

The Iron Lady's daughter says:

It’s been a week since I can get my hands ‘on’ the internet. And it has also been a week ++ since I pulled myself out of the black hole that I found in my own galaxy of mind caused by one of the things we have on the internet. Being cut off from it was a relief…I almost lost myself—the one I knew. But that was a whole different story.

During the holidays, I have experienced once more, a whole new world from a somewhat new perspective. Not different but yet not familiar neither. Therefore, through this experience, I have decided that, people can say in lots of different ways, in lots of different language, in lots of different lovely remarks and words (so lovely that it can be used by Hallmark in their luuurrvvly and expensive cards) how they love one another, how they cherish and appreciate the people connected to them through blood, to hearts, by minds or by time—but words will be words only.

Because I have decided that what is more important is action. Let’s put an ‘s’ there—to show the plurality of it: actions; because there are too many ways to act in order to show how much we have that love in us for the people around us or for the people we declared as important to us. What’s important are the actions that we use to ‘say’ that we love those ‘someone(s)’.

I may be biased in this because I am also a person who does not know how to tell my mother, my brothers and yesss my sister as well, that I love them without feeling an inch (okay fine…a loadddd) of awkwardness. Also, I was raised to not viewing embracing and cheek-kissing as regular things between family members. Maybe one-at-a-time pat on the back.

I was raised to understand that high-pitched voices, some slapping and pinching and (at times) hitting as some of the several ways to say ‘I love you’. It is only until the recent 6-7 years that I learn to be a bit manja with my Mom the Iron Lady. But still I find myself unable to tell her that I love her, straightforward.

The nearest I can get to saying ‘I love you, mommy’ is by telling my brother ‘take good care of mom, okay. I can’t look after her from here’. Or telling to herself: ‘mom, you take good care of yourself okay’… which will usually be followed by ‘kau tu la yang jaga diri sendiri, jangan kasi mama risau ya’… (-.-‘)

Though that’s the case, I still think that it is much joy to be like others around me who are able to say straightforward to their family members that they love each and every one of them. It’s just that I want to make it a point that it is okay to be someone who couldn’t do the same—it is okay as long as we show that we love them through actions. *tehihihi kasihan. mencari alasan untuk merasa senang hati*

It doesn’t matter what the actions are: pushing my younger brother around and sekeh his head, telling old inside jokes to siblings and say they were/are still ‘buduuu’ or even simply laying my head on her (the Iron Lady’s) lap *even it means improperness (and can bring bad luck) in my culture*—these things matter as long as at the end of the day, those people that I love do feel loved.

On a fairly related topic (maybe not at all related), I wanted to share this: one of the artists I stalked in dA put up a poll about:

I want to be...

• Free!
• Loved!
• Alone!
• Rich!
• Smart!
• Strong!
• Lost!
• Cured!
• Beautiful!
• Carefree!

Mind you, the exclamation marks are really there. I didn't put it myself.

I can only tick one option. I didn’t tick any. I couldn’t tick any. I don’t want to be any and yet I want to be every one of that. Why?—I did ask myself that. Well, maybe I can make that as my next entry. Maybe not.

personal note:i know exactly how ironic this entry is.

Bahasa ku bahasa Indah

Sudah lama tidak duduk berkumpul dengan ‘kumpulan sokongan’ dan bertekak dengan apa juga topik yang sebenarnya tidaklah begitu hangat tapi dihangatkan oleh cakap-cakap murah kami sendiri.

Apa pun, Yod, ini dedikasi kerana kau kata kau tidak suka baca tulisan blog aku yang dikarang dalam bahasa Melayu. Hm… mungkin aku perlu tulis ia sebagai “kau tidak gemar…”. Boleh diterima pakai?

Aku pun rasa aku sudah terkesan daripada perbincangan tersebut sehingga, iya, aku rasa aku sedar aku mengelak daripada menulis dalam bahasa sendiri. Aku pun tidak tahu mengapa. Kalau sebelum ini aku boleh katakan bahawa aku menulis dalam bahasa Inggeris kerana aku ingin menambah bilangan kebarangkalian pembaca untuk blog aku. Tapi dalam beberapa tulisan sejak dua menjak ini, aku pun sudah tidak pasti akan niat sendiri.

Apa-apa pun, mari aku mulakan.
Bagi aku, bahasa Melayu/Malaysia ini sama saja dengan bahasa-bahasa lain. Ia dicipta oleh sebuah masyarakat yang memerlukan satu ‘alat’ untuk berkomunikasi sesama mereka di dalam masyarakat tersebut. Bahasa ini, seperti bahasa-bahasa lain, akan berubah mengikut masa, mengikut keperluan penggunanya yang terkini, mengikut keadaan persekitaran.

Kerana fakta ini saja, aku sudah boleh katakan bahawa bahasa Malaysia cukup untuk aku gunakan, untuk menyampkaikan apa saja mesej yang aku ingin sampaikan. Bahasa ini bukan bahasa cacat yang kekurangan.

Untuk menghakimi satu bahasa berdasarkan bahasa lain adalah tidak adil atau dipanggil dalam terma bahasa Inggeris: egocentric. Ah~ ya… inilah yang Yod cuba sampaikan. Mungkin bahasa kita punya bilangan kata yang kurang. Bahasa kita banyak meminjam perkataan dari bahasa lain. Ini aku agak setuju.

Tapi bukankah peminjaman kata dari bahasa lain itu biasa dalam mana-mana bahasa? *aku serius bertanya* Ini bertujuan untuk mengembangkan bahasa kita untuk mampu digunakan untuk memperkatakan perkara-perkara semasa dan mengikut arus perubahan.

Dan apabila kita meminjam dari bahasa lain, kita telah menukarkan terma tersebut menjadi bahasa Melayu. Bukankah sudah di kira kita berbahasa Melayu dengan menggunakan terma pinjaman itu? Ini pun aku agak setuju.

Tapi aku bangkang kalau yang dikatakan bahawa bahsa kita tidak mampu untuk mentrakrif atau mengolah sebuah pemikiran atau menerangkan satu keadaan sebagai contoh terma/konsep “HOTness” yang telah digunakan pada malam perbincangan.

Bagi aku, mungkin ini kerana terma ini tidak ada dalam budaya asal Melayu. Kita yang pada asalnya terkenal dengan kelembutan dan keayuan dan kejelitaan sopan santun tentunya tiada takrifan untuk hotness untuk wanita-wanita Melayu. Ini menunjukkan bukan salah bahasa ia tidak mampu menerangkan konsep hotness di mata kita sekarang.

Cuma salah sekarang kerana kita sudah mencari hotness dan bukannya kelembutan, keayuan, kesopanan dan kesantunan. Tapi itu sudah keluar dari topik mula—itu sudah bicara tentang topik masyarakat dan aku pun bukanlah orang yang layak untuk memperkatakan tentang ayu atau sopan. Aku cuma ingin menyampaikan hujah.
Atau mungkin saja takrif 'hotness' kita ialah --->MANTAP!! Ha...

Dan aku rasa sampai situ sajalah. Pengetahuanku cetek. Aku perlu tuntut lebih banyak ilmu tentang bahasa dan masyarakat. Tapi yang kita perlu ingat saja, bahasa itu satu alat komunikasi. Biar macam mana besarnya peranan bahasa Inggeris di dunia ini, bahasa kita layak terus hidup dalam kemahsyuran dan digunakan dengan bangga oleh bangsanya sendiri.

Sebenarnya aku ingin berterus-terang. Aku merasakan menulis teks kali ini agak mencabar kerana aku sudah terbiasa dengan terma bahasa Inggeris dan aku mendapati diriku berfikir dalam bahasa Inggeris dan menterjemahkannya ke dalam bahasa Melayu. Ini sungguh tidak bagus. Aku perlu lebih banyak praktis.

Ps. Ini tiada kaitan dengan topik pemansuhan PPSMI yang sudah hampir basi. Aku berada di tengah saja dalam topik itu. Kalau ada, adalah. Kalau tiada, tiadalah. Kita sebagai orang-orang bawah piramid di dalam sistem pendidikan tiada pilihan kecuali menjadikan yang terbaik dengan apa saja yang ada walau terhad mana pun. (ini aku cuba mengatakan: we just have to make the best out of anything)

looking back in anger (?)

I must go on standing!

…sang Regina.

You know what breaks my heart? –the things that I don’t understand. It’s humane to be afraid of something that we don’t understand and things that break my heart are the things that I am afraid of *apart from other things as well*.

But that’s the thing—I just don’t understand those things. So why do I let it break my heart? I can’t help it, I guess. But broken hearts can mend and that’s all I can make out, out of those incomprehensible things.

Ok. How can I explain this?

I am an emotional person. It is not a logical thing to get affected by reminiscing your past, is it? But I do. Easily at that. I don’t really know how to name this feeling—but whenever I thought about the days I went through in Welly, I felt a shiver. I felt certain sadness.

But I am not sad at this present time caused by that past. Because I know I’ve learned something along the way; I’ve improved much that I deserve a pat on my back… but I feel—something... somewhat ‘sayu’?

It’s been too long since I get in touch with a friend who introduced me to Regina Spektor. I wonder how he is doing. He had helped me through a lot during my days in Welly. I don’t think I thanked him enough. But o well. If you read this, I thank you again yah!

And here’s a part of On the Radio by Regina as well.

This is how it works
You're young until you're not
You love until you don't
You try until you can't

You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath

No, this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took

And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood

And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again

How does it work again?
I won't let the old times get to me now...

sanity: a little room for me for a grip on reality

Someday, hopefully, you will understand that life is too short to wake up in the morning with regrets. So LOVE the people who treat you right and forget about those who don't. And believe that everything happened for a reason. If you get a chance, take it; if it changes your life, let it. Nobody said that it would be easy, they just promised that it would be worth it.

I didn’t write that. I wish I did. Well, it seems that Fatin has summed up whatever it is that I wanted to say all this while. I mean it. I really wanted to say that; all that, to you, you, YOU, you and you too… *points to the mirrors and windows that shows own reflection* and maybe you too, dear readers.

No offense, Fatin, but let’s face it—the whole thing is a cliché. I love clichés. I just found that out. We’ve heard it somewhere or somehow from someone through some way. But we often forget about it. Or maybe it just didn’t hit us as it supposes to hit us and make us really understand it. I wish I really understand that and remember it all the time, apply it to my life and maybe live by it. But that’d absurd. I’m just human, and human stumble.

Anyway. It’s great to be reminded.

So. Back to me.

I promised myself, I’ll have a small time for myself everyday: it doesn’t matter what I do during that self-time—draw something, play Benjamin, write something on paper or update my blog—as long as I spend a little, at least half an hour for this. It’s important because doing something for yourself is what keeps you sane during selfless times like this Practicum time.

I’d go crazy if all I do is trying endless trial-error experiments to ‘win’ the kids and the teachers and my supervisor… we try so many things to win all of their hearts. But not ours. That’s why I think I need to feel a sense of achievement or a sense of grip on myself by giving some room, some time for me-me-ME.

So, last night, I started drawing. Something that I have abandoned for a long time. Thanks to Iman, a friend from dA who inspired me to draw with one of his pictures. It is a superb close-up portrait of an old man smoking. His eyes are so distant and it’s obvious that the old man is thinking too much… the picture is strong and it filled me with emotions. Hence the decision to draw it.

But drawing it is far harder than I thought—moreover I am just an amateur. But once I started with a drawing, I could not stop thinking about it. It’s like solving a difficult add-math equation. Once I started, I couldn’t stop until I get the right answer. When I got the wrong one and I had to stop, I’d keep on repeating the equation and its possible steps of answering until I manage to find the wrong step and get back to the book.

Then, to stop myself from keep on coming back to the drawing I started with this instead.*big grin*

Keeping up with everything is hard. It’s tiring. But keeping my sanity is even harder. I thought I was going crazy. Yeah. Over-reacting. I know I can keep on trying to do the things that I am suppose to do as long as I force myself to do it. But forcing would mean an aimless-unconnected-distant-from-ourselves job to do. It'd push away my sanity. So for the sake of my sanity, doing something that I love and I know I’d do voluntarily is vital.

Heeekkkkk… and that includes writing here. Being able to pour my thoughts here is such bliss. So please don’t take it away from me.

*on my knees*

please...

one step at a time.if i am blind, oh God, please show me your way.

• People that made our sons and daughters passive receivers; that trained them to just wait to be fed

• People that make their sons and daughters too free of a soul until they are lost; or too strained a soul until they become zombies and mindless citizens

• People that visions a perfect society—to perfect to be realistic—the Utopian society

• People that uses the system to gain their personal interest and nothing else

Which of them are you?

I probably am/will be most of them. And I am also one of the people who knows only how to whine, as you can observe. But I will make a difference. One day.

gravity and everything that falls and rises back up

the world gave me thousands of reasons why i should go and let you go.
the world could give me another thousand of reasons.
but just let me try this once more, 'coz i know: it is only through crisis that we can mature. so give me another chance, and i'll try to fit in, try to fix it, try to fill in the void the world has created.

my world could just give only one reason why i should not go and let you go: us

"waznah" starts with a bubble-liew in Yaya's world

Third Eye Blind for me is the sound of 90's *no matter if it's My Time in Exile*—when times are more confused yet more comfortable. Almost every one of my faults can be accepted because I was once the innocent learner. Those times, when we hate each other just because we were kids, we fight just because we were kids—nothing more nothing less.

So whenever I listen them again, I feel like I am 13 or 15… or I feel like I am 13 and thus I have to give them a listen again.

I feel a bit hyperactive at the moment. I am psyched. I think I am because tomorrow’s Monday and school is starting. It’s not because I am happy and all, but it is because I am nervous. Why do you think I am here posting another entry? Procrastination of course. I am always nervous on Mondays. It is like I am a real rockstar but I still got the chills every time I come up stage for a show with my band mates. Heeeh *big grin*

I was telling Zila: it’s like you have to give more effort on Mondays because you are practically starting after a stop (the weekends). It’s like you have to go up ‘till 100kmps from 0 in a few seconds when you are only a Kancil. Please, no offence. I am using a Kancil to represent us as the inexperienced teacher trainee but by that, I (by all means) do not imply that a Kancil is not a good car.

In fact it is a great car with great advantages. It’s just that when we compare it with a Ferari? Yeah. A Ferari would be a Jusasi then. Well, using this analogy is not really good because I am not at all an expert with cars. But just saying, you know.

And when it comes to this analogy, maybe I don’t even have a car. I am a pedestrian. And Zila said she’d be Gary the snail in Spongebob. ;) Telling people that we are worse always makes other people feel better. So, do feel better. ;D

This weekend I was very fortunate to be able to meet up with Yaya again. My yearning for my kids back home was a bit eased with the meeting. She’s really clever. My ‘real’ name starts with a bubble-liew in her world.

But at the same time she made me wonder about what will happen with Iman, one of my kids—wonder if he’ll have a chance for a good *if not easy* years of growing up… What is it that I can do to help?... haih…

And it’s also very, very, very sad that some people are prone to making other people only see their weaknesses and feel incompetent. It’s unfair that we are judged to be good and excellent or bad and a failure based on a generalized description like a marking scheme as if we have an answer scheme for being human as well.

We are compared to one another and asked to be like one another. It’s ironic that we have learned about individual differences and yet we witness or first-hand-ly received the ‘punishment’ of not conforming to the majority who excel based on that answer scheme.

After all the effort—seriously—no one can see any good coming out of the result those tiring work? That ‘master piece’ didn’t deserve any compliment? Not even a simple one like “nice choice of topic” or simply… “I think your handwriting is neat…neater for today…that’s great. Keep up the good work~!” *chirpy and motivating voice.

But then again, *insert all of your disagreement here*

the appreciation of the little things in life

this may not seem much to anyone, but it meant something to me. my first drawing published in a mag. hey,hey, hoorah for me.



I forgot to mention this on Wednesday:

I was happy on Wednesday because a dear old friend accompanied me to school. I felt chirpy and felt like skipping all the way down to the taxi stand if it weren’t for my baju kurung and my destination which was the school.

I seldom felt that free anymore. But because of this old friend, things seemed lighter.

It was the rain. It’s cold but it warmed me up inside. The smell of it eased my mind a bit. And it injected me with this enthusiasm that I long had forgotten. *grin* I’m overdoing this. I just wanted to tell how much I like the rain. But I sure do love it more in Sandakan…

Okay. Here’s the thing I wanted to share. Remember that time when I said I was a bit depressed for two weeks in the past month?

...

Hmm..yeah. That sure is a bit confusing—because I always seemed depressed. Well. Anyway. I was highly lost and deeply buried down under my sad and confused world for two weeks last month. As usual, I went to Atik the-great-philosopher for some wise and realistic advice.

She said some things and I was already started to feel better. And then I decided to write a list of things that I wanted in life. But she said “NO, dear old silly friend… you must instead write a list of things you simply like. LIKE.” *note the exaggeration, Atik never sounded like a deep and echoed voiced ancient woman*

For a few minutes, my head was on delay. I was a bit blurred. So she took my pen and paper and started my list for me. :All the things that I like: and she wrote the first three things for me, which made me say AWWWwww in my head because I realized that Atik knows so much about me… :’)

And that list, took 2 weeks to be completed; to get to 50. I was planning for 100. But I think I’ll save the other 50 vacant lines for other new things that I know I will found and be fond of during my whole life span. And maybe, hopefully, 50 lines would not be enough because there will be infinite number of things that I like and I will like.

“Why?” I thought… why a list of I LIKEs? And as the list grew bigger, I knew that this list made me realize that I have so many things in my life that can make me happy and which can help me cheer myself up, instead of searching for excuses to drag myself down as usual.

It made me realize the things (and people) that probably I had taken for granted. I would not achieve this sense of realization with a list of the things that I wanted in life. Because those things will be the things that I don’t have but I wanted to own. That would make me more of an ungrateful bastard.

So, I have to thank Atik.

And rain is number 6 on the list.

alert: excessive grammar mistakes and signs of narcissistic behaviour. If you are allergic to these, please refrain yourself from enlarging the image.

...and I am deeply grateful for the existence of this one name that was written so many times in this list. Thank you.
And to the Support Group as well!~ yeeaaahhh...!

So if you are like me (an ungrateful bastard who sometimes forgot of how obvious and commonsensical that there are so many reasons for us to be happy instead of sad) you are recommended to do the list too.

looking for love

I don’t LIKE THURSDAYS!

I have no class on Thursdays.

No. That is not the cause for me to not like Thursdays—don’t get me wrong, I’m not that into this teaching profession.

The thing is—I don’t like Thursdays because I will be extra tempted to waste time on irrelevant things. And then when I realized I just wasted time, I’d freaked out. Dang.

Like now. I am freaking out. But at the same time, I know this is my only time to waste during weekdays, so waste time I WILL~! So, I’m taking it slowwwww….

I remember this one time during the workshops we (the TESOLians in Welly) had before we fly back to Malaysia, we had this conversation with one of the lecturers about the teaching profession.

When we said that the plan was: we will be leaving after we have done our 4-5 years of contract; she was so sure we will not. I remember the way her face lit up when she said “I’m very sure that you will change your mind about this profession... you wouldn't want to leave~” *or something like that*. She kept on talking about how it is great and we will sure love it—with such passion and SEMANGAT!!! *imitates the psyche that she shows—somewhat Disney-like*

Don’t get me wrong (again); I love her for that. Just the way I love every lecturer I had in Welly that shows so much passion for the profession and education as a whole.

But it is the fifth week of my practicum, and I still don’t see any sign of love between me and the education system.

And…actually to tell the truth, I was a bit disappointed about that. Because I was hoping—even if it wasn’t love at first sight, I do hope I will fall in love with it. I don't really know why.

Maybe when I get my feet on the ground. When I am not a trainee anymore. Maybe.

No, Atik. Our plan to open cool and successful café is still on.
Even if I fall in love with teaching.

not just another face in the crowd

And that was it. At that moment I wasn’t angry anymore.

Kids, you may think (that) your only choices are to swallow your own anger or to throw it to some one’s face. There is a third option—you can just let it go. And only when you do that, (that) it is really gone and you can move forward.
-How I Met Your Mother, ep.6, season 4.

Other than feeling that being angry makes people look stupid; I have another opinion towards anger—I am tired of it. I am tired of being angry. This is because I am surrounded by so many people and things that can make me angry and people whom I easily perceived as angry.

But I thank God for giving me all these things and all those people that kept on pushing me to be angry—because if it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t grow tired of anger and of being angry. And if I had not grown tired of anger, I wouldn’t have been forced to learn how to let go.

One of the not-so-new-now things that had become one of the so many sources that could make me angry was the students in dear 2 PEACOCK. Yes. Such name. You should meet with the students in it. They sure do suit their class’ name—the original name and the two words that can be derived from it. Seriously.

Ok fine. The name was actually 2 Merak.

Anyway. Week 1: was trying to be strict. They wouldn’t let me. Week 2: going softer a bit because they were not giving me any easy time being strict. Week 3-untill recently: …being angry with these kids means screaming and punching things because they were just to0 disrespectful, they undermine me and were just too disruptive.

And the worst part about it was that I will bring those feelings and anger outside of the class and back ‘home’. And the most dangerous part was it (being depressed and angry at the same time) could affect (and had affected) the relationships between me and the people I love.

So, realizing this, I knew that I had to find a way to just let things go. I needed to relax. I needed to at least separate the school world from my personal world. This is far contradictory to my previous belief—work is always personal because I put my heart into it and because it is personal, it can never be separated from other worlds of mine. But well, I changed my mind because I have no other choice. I will lose if I don’t. But seriously I don’t know how.

One day it struck me, as I was walking down towards the gate, that one particular face in the crowd could make everything (all the anger and rage) just seem so far away… we talked about it for a while.

I know it (the disastrous lessons) were not entirely my fault. All that effort—that was the best of what I can do at that time. And I know I can always try better next time. I’ll take it day by day.

And that’s it.

I let go. I went back home and I tried hard to prepare another lesson plan with new materials and somewhat new approach from a different angle—with a new hope that this time it will be successful. Even if it doesn’t, I can always find that face in the crowd at the end of the day.

the last 20 minutes of titanic

saya ada seekor kucing.
kucing saya sangat chumel.
saya sayang kucing saya.



peter, wait for me!! i want to fly to neverland and never grow up!!!



in denial of Mondays.im garfield.



im scaredshitless of things that can bring me down and school is one of them. and i still am not sure of why i am in thisssss thing.


hey3!
im wearing red pants!and i am a rock staarrrr~

time: everything is in its right places

The days in the past two weeks passed me like fast cars on a highway. The weeks to come, I’ll be back in school with the kids, with the undeniably sick system in which I will be another nameless but vital part.

This morning, as any morning for the past two weeks, I woke up not remembering what happened last night, where I am, when is today and other wh-questions which answers hold the information that if not known, I might as well call myself crazy.

But for a few seconds I did not know.

And I had to get a hold on the most valuable gadget that almost every person holds dearly these days—my handphone. I had to check the day and date, scheme through the messages in the inbox and the sent items before last night’s memories reformed in my head and only then that the other memories came.

I like to see events that occurred in our lives (that turned into kept memories) as things that are supposed to happen and the fact that it happened made it nothing more than occurrences. It may connects us to how we become the person that we became at the present state thus it relates us to our emotions—happiness, sadness, anger or whatever.

But the fact is those occurrences will just be occurrences. They are not bias. It is neither fortunate nor unfortunate that these occurrences occurred. And the fact that I could not do anything about it made it more apparent that it is pointless to judge it, mingle with it or dwell in it. But words are cheap. I am a constant visitor to my past.

Time is an entity that is there when it actually isn’t.

So when a person caught a moment in a photograph, did s/he catch that second, that time? Did the photograph catch us in motion? Did it catch the particles of air moving around us at that time? Did it catch the feelings that we felt at that time—though we faked the smile, the laughter that we showed in it?

What I know: it catches the occurrence that occurred at that time. With the memory that it holds, if we slipped it off out of our minds, that particular picture will remind us—of the time the things happened, of how we used to have our things our way, of how we used to feel then, of how other things and other occurrences were related to the other occurrences that will lead to that moment in that picture and that will lead to the things after that.

But alas, as I have said, they are just events that had occurred. It is in our past. And the fact that other people felt different things towards an event doesn’t make that event any easier, any harder, any sweeter or any bitter. It is an event. It is a pill that we swallowed. And it will only be that.