kingofblur's Xanga

Things That I Do Not Need In School.

Fri, 30 Oct 2009 20:06:54 GMT

[I don't have that album, but I listened to the quartet piece online. Never did I think I would like Debussy's stuff. Btw, I recommend Highbury Quartet's version.]

A good friend, dorm- and coursemate of mine recently lost his precious wireless mouse, and he's freaking out about it. That prompted me to wonder why he--and most other people in campus for that matter--needs a mouse so much. I know it's just not as good as a full-blown mouse, but would it really kill to use the touchpad? My mind wandered off from there, because I have like, so much of time to think about such important matters, and I found my thoughts landing at the things that I do not need in campus. Now, I'm talking about physical, material needs in general, and I'm going to make a pseudo-list here. Appreciate it, because I don't often make lists.

Things that I do not need in school:

1. A Facebook account. Or any other social networking sites, for that matter. Even out of school, for that matter. Yes, I admit I have a Friendster account, but that was made ages ago, back when I was young and naive. But in any case, I never saw the point of it, and I still don't. I don't understand why people need these sites to connect with (mostly) the people that they see every single day. Don't they need some alone time? People tell me Facebook is just different, but I don't care. I tell you, whatever it is, it's just another hype. I don't know how long it will last--congrats to the founder if it lasts--but that's just not my cup of tea. Even the name doesn't make sense to me.

2. A fridge. Oh yes, I said it. C'mon, we have cafeterias. I know, the food there sucks, but do you really need the snacks, milk, and all the other stuff that needs cold storage? Do you really need to eat in your room at all? I don't know about other people, but when I'm hungry, I either don't eat, or eat at the cafeterias--unless there are people going out; then I'll tag along. Yes, I do not get to enjoy satisfying cold food whenever I want, but at least I know I don't have a whole chunk of minibar clogging my room and emanating heat that eliminates the difference between a cooling room atmosphere and the Malaysian weather outside. Besides, since when did cold food become healthy anyway?

3. A cooling pad. Yes, it's another cooling device that I find superfluous. I know, it's supposed to cool off your laptop so that you can have it on the whole day, downloading nonsense and hogging the Internet connection, buy why do you need that? Don't you think that laptop manufacturers realise that laptops heat up when used for a long time, and install cooling devices within them? Sure, it might not be a lot, but at least you know your laptop won't burn out even though it gets hot. If it does burn out, it's entirely your fault, because: first, you're not supposed to have it on for such a long time; second, you were too dumb to turn it off when you realise that it's excessively heating up; and third, you got yourself a piece of crap that should be chucked into the dumpster in the first time--because you are too cheap to get a proper laptop that does not burn out!

4. A mouse. Oh look, it's another computer gadget! As you may or may not know, this is already mentioned above: does it kill to use the touchpad? I'm perfectly clear that it's not the most convenient device in the world, but what the heck are you doing on your laptop that needs such fast and accurate movements? If you're gaming, or drawing, or photoshopping, that's still reasonable--but if you're typing a document or surfing the Internet and you tell me omg you need a mouse, don't blame me if I gave you a live mouse. C'mon, you are typing a document, don't you think the main device to do that is like, I don't know, a keyboard?! You use the pointer to click buttons and icons; you're not drawing a line or figure. The important thing about the pointer here is the destination, not the journey/process--thus you do not need the mouse to have complete control over the pointer's movement. The same thing goes to surfing the Internet: in case you didn't notice, there are built-in scroll functions on touchpads nowadays, so use them.

5. Pork. This is a very Chinese thing, and it just struck me like that. You may or may not know that Chinese in general are big fans of pork; we have so many kinds of pork dishes that we lost count, and a lot of them remain unnamed (such as most of my mom's recipes). Now, surprise, surprise: I am not part of that crowd--gasps! Well, I mean, yes, I am Chinese, I eat pork, I love dim sum, etc., but I do not crave for pork, for goodness' sake. There are people who actually go like, 'omg, I miss pork so much!' in campus as my school serves kosher/halal food, and these are the people who often eat out and salivate over the sight of fat, oily pork products. I don't get that; do they die substituting pork with chicken or beef? For me, the pork-substitution situation is supposed to be worse as I do not take beef; there is only chicken left for me. What have you to say about that?

And people say I'm like the rich kid who lives in luxury back home, and is picky and finicky. Look who's finicky now, you needy overgrown babies.

P.S.: Initially, I plan to get into the things that I actually need in campus too, but it looks like the list/post is already getting pretty long, and the things that I need is not all that interesting anyway, so yeah, we'll just leave those for another day.

Stardom: An Old Dream Renewed?

Sat, 24 Oct 2009 15:07:13 GMT

Last Sunday, I finished the Shark Attack Theatre Tour with my TTS (it's a drama club) mates, and while we were at it, even shot a short film based on the theatre production we were staging. I gained more experience as to acting.

I was told that now I seem comfortable onstage. I was both unsurprised and surprised: unsurprised, because I knew I was pretty uncomfortable throwing out my lines onstage before the KL show; and surprised because I didn't think it'd show so obviously. But I guess experience, not to mention compliments, really help. Experience gets you familiar with what you are doing, and compliments empower you.

As mentioned, we shot a short film, and for my part, I was required to act in public, on the street where there was crowds. I realised it was going to be absolutely embarrassing even before I got into it, but in any case, I did it. I can proudly say I was not disturbed by the sight of being watched by total random strangers on the street at all, and that says a lot.

And yesterday, which was Friday, my school held the finale for its Talent Search night, and I was one of the hosts of the event. I was not nervous at all prior to the show, until about 5 minutes before the show. To be frank, I was so nervous I could have had a nervous breakdown any moment if I hadn't the stage experiences that I have.

But as nervous as I was, I kept my mind clear, and after the opening gimmick, I was sailing through onstage--even when I forgot my cue cards. I only freaked out for a moment there when I realised I stepped out on the stage without my cue cards, but then I took control of the situation, saying whatever I could recall at that time and improvising the rest. Of course, my co-host helped me out a lot.

Excepting for dancing, I can confidently tell you that now, I am very comfortable doing whatever onstage. And, I think dancing should not be a problem, if I could just look normal and not like I'm trying to recall my next steps. I'm sure a little practice will help on that part.

All the words above lead to my point here: am I ready for it?

As you may or may not know, I secretly dream to be in the entertainment industry, ultimately one of those people that you see on TV, in cinemas and on the Internet. I do not know how I am going to get there or if I'm going to get there at all, what with a contract up my back and not a lot of connections, but I'm heck sure going to try. I will grab opportunities when I see them, whether people like it or not.

But, do I have what it takes? Would height really be a factor?

Whether or not height is a factor, while I can, I will try to change that. If sports is what it takes, I will do that--however much I'm awkward at that field. Many people think otherwise, but on the very inside, I am actually a quiet and shy person. It takes me time to be comfortable doing a lot of things, trust me. But I have conquered the stage. Sports should not be a problem at all! I must be pro-active--like I preach: fake it until I make it. What could be scarier than public speaking, right?

So, am I truly ready for it? Do I really have what it takes? And, ultimately, how am I to go about it?

A Week of Feeling Good.

Mon, 12 Oct 2009 16:49:08 GMT

Now that I'm relatively free, I should really start doing my homework and what not, instead of lazing around surfing the Internet and downloading stuff. Heck, I'll start work after this.

Last weekend was the second stop--at Ipoh; the first was in school--of the Shark Attack Theatre Tour by my school's drama club, TTS. Two more shows were done and there leaves only two more this weekend, in KL. I thought the shows in Ipoh were very successful, despite the poor amount of audience.

Being happy for the team aside, I also feel acknowledged and appreciated as I received what I call the second major compliment of the week after the Saturday night show. The first compliment came on Tuesday, from the orchestra instructor.

As you may or may not know, I play the cello in my school's orchestra, for about a year now. I've only started playing since I entered university, so I majorly lack experience, let alone skills. I try to make up by putting more effort into practising. Last Tuesday, the instructor, Mr. Goh, who I always secretly fear and revere, was stopping by the school after his returned from his 'trip' to the hospital due to exhaustion. He was just around for a meeting with the committee, but the vice president, the past section head for the cello and double bass, and my personal tutor and sifu (yes, it's all the same person), did not know that.

She told me, and another amateur cellist like me, that there was going to be a practice session that night, and that we should go. And we did, only to find out that there was no practice whatsoever, except the special session for the erhu (it's like the Chinese violins) players as Mr. Goh brought in someone. However, since I was there at the orchestra room already anyway, I just sat down and did my own practice session, with the other cellist. We were just running through our individual pieces for the upcoming evaluation.

Fast forward to when the meeting was over, the committee and my sifu ushered us to pack up as they were going to close the room. Mr. Goh passed by and heard me play. He told my tutor that I played well, or something along the lines of that. She came in and reported that to me, but I was still pretty engrossed with playing, and the information did not sink in. After I packed up and stepped out of the room, Mr. Goh was still there, and he personally gave me a thumbs-up and said, 'Good!' plus elaboration on how I've improved and become better.

I only sheepishly smiled at him, not knowing how to respond. But after I got back to my room, oh, the euphoriant feeling was rising in me. I was so happy. For the whole week. Even now still, a little bit.

The second compliment came from the drama club instructor-cum-founder, Dr. Shark (now you know why the tour is called the Shark Attack Theatre Tour). For the past two weeks, and this week, we have been doing this school-Ipoh-KL tour, and the production Asylum--which talks about a mental hospital trying to stage a play--is part of the main highlights of the show. Of course, I'm involved in the theatre show, acting as a psychotic politician, with (this is self-developed as the director allows it) a double personality of a gone case cuckoo patient.

During the about a month of practice prior to the tour, I was very insecure about my performance. I did not know how to act as a winning (read: confident and convincing) politician candidate. I was constantly asking the other cast how I was doing, and whatever comments I received did not seem to be helping me find the character at all. All until a few days before the show.

It just snapped within me that the key factor is the confidence. However dramatic I wanted to do it, that was up to me, so long as the confidence--the glint in the eyes--was there. Even if I don't have it, fake it; that's what acting is all about anyway. So I did. I gave my all and let it all out during the first show in school, and I can say, yes, I did it. But the second show was a little disappointing, for myself, because the audience was smaller and frankly, my performance was seriously affected by it.

I learnt that nothing like that should deter my onstage moment and shake my 'confidence'. For last week's shows, I put it (the 'confidence') all up again and embraced the spotlight, however much I still did not believe in myself deep down. I thought I just did okay (I think the first show was really good), but I guess Dr. Shark saw the confidence that I used to cover up the insecurity, because on Saturday night, after the show, he sent me a text message: 'Love you! You are my upcoming star!'

'Wow,' I was so surprised and flattered that it was all I could tell myself. I did not in a million years think I would get anything like that from him. He actually elaborated on it the next day, saying how with that confidence, I could be the CEO of a company already.

Those two compliments really are confidence boosts. Psychological effect or whatever, I feel like I'm smoother on the cello now, and my character comes easier to me. I feel like I actually have talents now.

I really appreciate the acknowledgement of my efforts. I know I mustn't let them get into my head, but...keep them coming!

Morning and Me.

Fri, 02 Oct 2009 05:30:57 GMT

[I have no idea if the song is from the album, but I think it's a single; his tribute to Michael Jackson.]

No, Morning is not a dog.

I actually got up in the morning today half an hour before class to get ready for it. This is amazing stuff! Usually I just lie in bed and get up 15 to 20 minutes after shutting my phone alarm, which I usually set half an hour before class time. I actually have human alarm clocks too (as my phone is not the wake-me-upper in the world): my dorm-, class- and coursemates; but even that also, I start moving about 10 minutes after they wake me up.

Yesterday I wrongly set my alarm an hour earlier than my usual wake up time because I was so tired from studying until late night I thought the class was an hour earlier than it actually is. But as usual, I shut it off and dropped back to sleep, until my most efficient human alarm clock came. When he left, I checked the time, and thought I was already half an hour late for class, and was debating with myself whether to skip it altogether when my mind snapped and I realised I had half an hour before the class started. And then the miraculous thing happened.

Even though I was damn tired and obviously wanted more sleep, I voluntarily got up, went to the bathroom to wash up, and got ready for the class. I was still a little behind; the rest left without me, and I was a few minutes late to class, but the point is: I voluntarily made it to class in the morning! Woohoo!

Okay, this is not the first time this has happened, but I have to tell you, I feel so good everytime it happens. Because, let's face it: I am not a morning person. My Monday blues is especially heavy.

I can't help it: I just cannot sleep early, even if I worked myself out thoroughly. No, I do not have insomnia, but something will just be in my way of going to bed early--or rather, not late. Even if it's not test or assignment season, something will just come up, such as a book I'm reading that I just 'have to read before I sleep', a new song, an awesome performance or music video, or--heck--the Internet, etc. And the other thing is, I love my bed in the morning. It's just so cool and cozy, and my pillow and blanket are fantastically soft and tender after a night of use. How can I keep myself away from them? The best things in the world cannot compare to them.

I want to change it, but like most things circumstantial, it's a little hard. Very little people know this (not after this post), but I hate it when I can't get up on time. I feel so bad when I wake up too late; I feel like so much time is wasted--precious time that can be used much better than (over-) sleeping.

I want to do much more, even simple stuff like eating breakfast, taking a morning stroll, reading, or playing an instrument, even singing. I am actually secretly happy everyday I get up on time for morning activities, even just classes, however mundane and tedious they might be.

Oh, how I wish I could be those people whose sleep is optional to them. They can sleep late and get up early like it's not the most difficult thing in the world to do. And even not getting sleep at all for a day or two is fine for them. Oh, these people are figures for admiration, although, I think they'll age much faster than most of us.

I want to be a morning person, who can also stay up late at night for whatever activities, urgent or not, but I guess that's damn hard. I can only struggle with this until it all works out for me. Sigh.

Is Morning your dog friend?

P.S.: I'm only taking a break for this post after I finished reading the lecture slides for a test tomorrow. Yes, an academic test on a Saturday, can you believe it? As if weekdays are not gruelling enough. But anyway, I better read them through again, especially the 78 slides that I could barely remember I read last night, causing me my beauty sleep.

And, now that the song is done, what's next? The book? Leaning up? Hmm, more like tests and assignments and practices and performances. Sad.

Radical Hair Changes.

Tue, 29 Sep 2009 10:36:44 GMT

[I don't actually have the album, but I watched the performance online, done by students. They played it well!]

All my life, my hair has been straight. Silky straight, to be exact--so much so that people actually ask me if I straighten or rebond my hair. Hell no, whichever guy does such things? Well, maybe the Jonas brothers, but they also wear skinny jeans, so yeah...

Anyway, although I do not straighten my hair, which emphatically is silky straight, I did something to it that most other guys don't do as well: I permed it. What? Don't judge me. I was just a little tired of having incredibly (silky) straight hair, and I want it curly for a change. So I went ahead and permed it. It wasn't like super curly or what, but definitely wavy. And I looked good, I must say... although, with (good) looks like mine, I can pull off most hairstyles if not any, so saying I looked good is biased, as I probably looked normal. Btw, now I know what the pungent smell in the saloon is: it's the smell of chemicals used to perm hair.

After having wavy hair for about two months, for a typical guy, my hair was falling apart, what with the (silky; oh, this never gets old) straight roots growing out and the wavy ends straightening back after multiple washes. So, I should get a haircut soon. Maybe I should cut it shorter, and perm it back again, as having wavy hair is pretty fun!

But no, I cannot. Now is not the time for that, because I have another radical change to make. It's not voluntary, but I have to do it, for a theatre production about crazy people staging a theatre production (talk about twists). I don't mind it personally, since I've been doing it for six years when I was in primary school; it's a Chinese school rule boys must follow. No, it's not dying my hair pink. Just see the pictures.

I've turned from

fabulous loose curls, to

zomg skin head!

You just said, 'Shit!', right? But really, it's no big deal for me. The facial expression is for contrasting purposes only. I just did it, like, just now, and no one knows about it yet except the guy who brought me to the barbershop (also involved in the production; thus, bald), my roommate and a couple of friends.

Well, and the whole world after this.

Comment me your first response; I want to know.

P.S.: The song is done! Okay, the arrangement sucks because the software I have sucks and my music skills are not first-class, and the vocals suck even more because I only recorded it in my room with the fan off and I don't sing too well, but still, it's done! I win in life.

Oh, Urges.

Fri, 25 Sep 2009 16:02:47 GMT

[Omg, it is such a nerdy book, but damn it's good.]

I have the following urges recently, for reasons unknown.

I have an urge to write a book. This is actually pretty consistent urge. I mean, it's always been in me, but I don't know why it is popping up the surface lately. I think it might have something to do with the literary material that I come across lately. They are all pretty simple books. For example, An Abundance of Katherines. It is a really easy-going book with a plot that's beyond normal. But still, it was a good read. It makes me feel like I am capable of writing an awesome book too. But as many people may know, writing a book is not easy at all. The actual writing part maybe simple, but the editing will kill you--especially for people like me, whose fickle mind frequently changes. But maybe I should try, anyhow. We'll see about that.

I have an urge to write a song. Well, not just a song, if I may, but one song would make me happy enough. I'm not limiting myself to mainstream pop songs or songs that involve guitar-strumming and humming, but also instrumental songs, preferably on the cello. But too bad, my cello skills are not qualified enough (although/that's why I have been practising hard this holiday). Besides, I always like my cello solos to be accompanied with the piano, and the piano parts would for sure take me some time to figure out. Similar to my urge to write a book, this urge to write a song may be influenced by the fact that a friend of mine wrote a rather good song recently. In fact, he just sent me the song last night. Nothing too fancy, but one with high potential, nonetheless. This totally amplified the urge. I have something up my sleeve now, albeit just the chorus.

I have an urge to lean up. The normal term would be to buff up, but that is not exactly what I'm looking to do. I don't want to be a walking set of overworked muscles. I just want to thin down and gain some muscle mass. Not that I think I'm fat or what; I think I'm pretty normal. I actually used to work out, believe it or not, but I have stopped for quite some time now because I'm lazy and it can get pretty tiresome. But Dare2BDiferentt, a normal kid just like me (maybe not on the humor scale) is doing it, and that somehow makes me want to start caring about my body shape again. Some regular cardiovascular exercises and more sports would do, I think. Let's see if the urge is strong enough to get me moving.

I have an urge to give a speech. It's not something formal, but just a talk to revive a long-expired friendship. For quite some time now, its normal growth has been obstructed by something most people would feel good about, but in my case, a thing that I am not yet ready for. I must apologize to the friend, for messing things up for so long. I have finally let the urge take over today, and spoken my mind. Now my part is done; whether or not the pure friendship can be rekindled, it's up to the other party. I'm hoping it works, because otherwise it would be such a waste.

P.S.: The speech inspired the song I have up my sleeve! And it is sort of dedicated to that friend to whom I talked.

The Survival of My Awesome Handphone!

Thu, 17 Sep 2009 14:58:44 GMT

Festive, thus school, holidays are around the corner, so let's talk about that funny stuff up my sleeve.

About two weeks ago, at the end of August, for Independence Day, about which I did not even have the time to blog, (because) I had a choir performance in front of the sultan. We had about a week to prepare for it, two mornings of rehearsals, and then it was the real show. The real show was nothing much, just ordinary choir singing with excessive flag-waving, except that my voice broke. But I don't think anyone heard it. Damn I hope no one heard it, especially the sultan.

Regardless of that, something funny happened during the second morning of rehearsal. I actually missed the first one because I couldn't get up for it, and I was told that we screwed up pretty badly, so attending the second morning's, I was determined to suck it up and do my very best.

The rehearsal was pretty tedious stuff. We reached there right on time, for some reason got scolded for 'being late', and then we were backstage waiting for whatever things that always happen during rehearsals making you wait for nothing. But my determination was not to be dampened by a little bit of waiting!

...Until my stomach twisted.

My stomach has perfect timing. Just when I vowed to myself to suck it up, it did something that I could not possibly suck up: I had to go to the loo! Thus I excused myself from standing in line waiting to go onstage, and went to the toilet. No, more like went in search for the toilet, even though I asked for directions.

It took me awhile, because I wasn't familiar with the place at which the Independence Day celebration was happening, but I eventually found it and went on with the wonderful business of pleasing my stomach and cleansing my intestines.

The funny thing happened when I was done. I was pulling up my pants, the hose of which getting stuck at my shoe heel, and I felt something slipped out of my pant pocket. Still holding onto my pants, I turned around to see what it is and what stunt it could make, the whole time already knowing exactly what was going to happen.

I saw a black Sony Ericsson phone case--in which held a Nokia N95--dropped to the smooth porcelain surface of the toilet bowl, and hoped that it had enough friction to stick at where it landed, but watched as my hope shattered and the phone case slide all the way to the hole where smelly bodily fluids, solids and semi-solids fall into.

Omg, that was so funny, right? I know!

My heart skipped a beat as I leaned forward and peeped into the hole. It was a squat toilet I used, and unlike seat toilet where there's a horinzontal surface, squat toilets usually connect straight to wherever everyone's poop gather. I was actually secretly hoping the pipe had a curve, thus a horizontal landing, but the fact that my heart skipped a beat should tell you that it had not.

Actually, it had a curve, but not until...let's just say not until very deep. So what was I going to do? Continue pulling up my pants and then mourn for a minute as I pull the flush? Summon my phone with my telekinetic powers and risk my identity being exposed? Or cry 'Accio Timmy's zomg fabulous Nokia N95!'?

I did not have my unicorn horn wand with me, and I absolutely could not risk exposing my true identity--but I could not just mourn as I murdered my own handphone! There was only one thing left to do.

Very calmly (surprisingly), I stuck my whole arm into the hole and grabbed--amidst the human droppings--the handphone up. I laid it on the floor beside the tap, washed my hand, and pulled up my pants. Then I took the phone and got out of the cubicle, took out my phone as I walked to the taps and basins--all the while noticing that there are some brown stuff stuck to the phone case--and turned on one of the taps as I watched my phone still systematically shutting down.

I took out the battery and SIM card, and rinsed the phone case and all parts of the phone thoroughly with the flowing water. I even slided it up and rinsed through the gaps, determined to remove all (or as much as I can) the undesirable bits of human cookie dough stuck on the gadget, whether visible or not. I only stopped when I convinced myself that they were clean (enough).

And then the day went on as normal, only with me telling my choir mates that I could not be contacted on my phone at least for the day because my phone dropped into the toilet, but before I started my business. Gosh, don't judge me; it is only human nature to minimise embarrassment.

But I guess now the true story is out. Shit. Pun intended.

Throughout the day, I was drying out my phone. When I finally got back to my room in the afternoon, I saw that most part has dried, but the cameras fogged up. I admit, I was a little frustrated because my phone's cameras are too fabulous to have something like that happening to them. I was determined to get the water droplets out, some way, somehow!

I got out the packeted silica gels from my laptop bag and goggle case, and slapped them onto the two cameras. Omg, I'm telling you, silica gels are amazing items, because by that night, the water had cleared up.

I did not (even try to) turn on the phone until the next day, well over twenty-four hours after its epic dive into Poo-Pooland. I slipped on the battery, and very casually switched it on. It worked, like I secretly prayed that it would expected.

The underside of the screen was still filled with water, but then with more silica gel treatment, the water also dried up within a few days.

Not to brag, but I actually knew that it would have a high chance surviving the drowning because a similar case happened to a friend of my mom's, and my mom did exactly what I did (except the silica gel part) and saved the phone for her. The phone is nothing but electric circuits; so long as you stop the electricity flowing through it while there is water, as that would cause short circuits and what not, the phone should be alright after the water is out.

I actually missed most part of the singing during the rehearsal that day, but who cares about that? My handphone is so awesome!

Hmm, I remember it is bought on Independence Day two years ago; so this is how it wanted to celebrate its anniversary with me, eh?

P.S.: Now I'm sure no one except me would want to touch my 'mud' spa-treated phone ever again. Great, now I'm reminded that my phone is filled with infinitesimal bits of poop. First my earphones, then my phone. Now what?

Break.

Sun, 06 Sep 2009 09:37:10 GMT

"All work and no play makes Timmy a dull boy."

As much as I advocate doing as much as you can while you can, I think having fun is no less important. I think I might've been too hooked up with work that when I'm actually free, I get paranoid. I doubt myself: did I forget something? Am I actually having time for a break? Did I do this yet? Is that happening today and now?

It's crazy how the momentum of work can make you forget everything but work itself. It's as if you are racing at a very high speed and you see a rest station ahead. You enter the rest station and take a break, all the while feeling skeptical about the actual existence of the rest station.

But whatever the case is, most of the pressing matters have passed for now. What's left is only long-term work that you cannot delay but which you cannot push either. It is what it is: long-term. I finally have time to rest and recuperate--although, it did not sink until yesterday when I went out of the school on a semi-business trip to the beach.

It was awesome to do nothing serious and dip your feet into the sand and let the waves slosh against your legs. Oh, and to take out the guitar, tune it by ear as best as you can, and strum out random songs while bantering with friends (such as telling them how much they suck at the guitar; jokingly, of course). It was even more awesome feeling the pure adrenaline from go-carting. Nothing was more relaxing than (despite the booming music) having a drink or two (or more) with friends at night before conking out on your bed without even changing.

Oh, the euphoriant sensation of unwinding. Of course, for that to happen, you must have yourself all wound up to begin with. If you do not want to have yourself twisted up at all in first place, then sad to say: your life is just sluggish--dull, unexciting, uninteresting, and plain boring. You are not making a difference, not even for yourself.

Anyway, as to unwinding, personally, there are litmitless ways, depending on the situation. For me, the unwinding method must be as impactful, if not more than, as the pressure brought upon by the workload before it. If it's only studying for some tests, then going online for a day would do the trick; if it's constant practice for a performance, then maybe reading a book is enough. But if it's what I've been through for the previous whole month, then I think I'd need a complete day out. And today, after a complete day out yesterday, I'm spending a day doing nonsense online. Besides blogging.

That should be about enough to cover back the fun lost during all the work time. Then I should really start doing homework. Sigh.

There's a quote that goes something like, 'Rest for a while, so that you can travel a longer journey.' Well, I say, 'Travel long, so that you can rest for a long, long while.'

My point is, enjoy work, but afterwards, enjoy yourself more than you enjoy work.

But still, homework is tedious.

How do you unwind?

P.S.: I realise my posts have been only about work and break--oh, such mundane things. I have some funny stuff up my sleeve actually.

Work, Work, Work.

Sat, 29 Aug 2009 09:39:08 GMT

[The supposedly 'bang' ending of the book did not bang me so much; but as usual, Picoult's characters are very well-developed.]

Whoa. It has been two long, tiresome and blog-timeless weeks. I almost died last week preparing for all the convocation performances; I almost died again preparing for a book fair amidst going through the motions of studying for four tests. The run is not over yet: I'm preparing for a choir performance for Independence Day, happening on Monday. And then there will be training for the theatre production Asylum. I will slip in some time to study while training goes on.

Notice how I take out time for studies instead of taking out time for activities? Yeah, studies mean nothing to me except for the piece of paper I will receive at the end of my years of undergraduate studies. Of course, and the subjects that actually interest me. I'm not one to sit in class and listen, after that, sit in my room and study. That is not life to me.

To me, studies end at attending the necessary classes and completing the necessary homework. After those are done (well, as to the latter, as it is done bits by bits), I need to find something to do. Something fun; something new; something challenging; something that catches my attention for more than 3 seconds. That's when the campus life--the real learning--begins. What happens in class is not learning; it is merely an obligation. Doing just that makes me feel ordinary--it is what everyone in school can do. The activities, on the other hand, empower me, make me feel useful--and special.

Not everyone in school is able to juggle and balance all the crazy things of which I'm a part--not everyone think they can, anyway. That's what makes me feel proud, thus driven and motivated. I'm not saying I'm darn incredible, but I think so far I'm balancing well between my studies, activities and social life (heck, the activities actually give me more social life!). I have to admit some things might be falling into background, but apart from that, I think I am doing well; I will somehow find the time to pull the falling-behinds back to surface.

I know that is not the case for many people, who mostly just want to peacefully get through with studies, and they ask: what am I trying to achieve anyway, doing so many things? Well, I say, I just want to live. Sure, I feel like a corpse when I get back to my room most days, but peeling through the fatigue, I see satisfaction and accomplishment. I'm not trying to be the perfect, A-class student; I'm just trying to be my perfect, first-class dude. It is as simple as that; I'm doing so much to meet my own expectations. Mine and no one else's...although, there are always rules to follow.

Some people say I'm crazy, a mental extremist, but I think otherwise. I also think that a lot of people can do much more than they give themselves credit for. You maybe proud that you are able to maintain a fairly good pointer and not be involved in too much nonsense the good, bad and ugly are doing, but think again: is that all you've got? The way to find out if you are capable of reaching greater heights is to go out and do things--at least try to go out and do things. More often than not, you will find that you are a better, stronger person than you thought you were. And then you can decide whether you like the tumult or calm more.

You are only young once; go out and do things.

Gotta run--there's work to do.

A Whole New World.

Sun, 02 Aug 2009 16:27:03 GMT

You know you belong in a world when people within start asking you to do things, especially things that you like. I just knew it (that I belong) when I received a phone call from my school's virtuoso singer. I didn't know what she wanted, I wasn't free to talk on the phone with her, and I actually asked her to call back later. But I knew something desirable was up.

I first got the feeling that the piano came back to me after all when the school's choir asked me to replace the preceding keyboardist. I was reluctant to take on the job, not because I didn't like playing--I do--but because I didn't think I got the ability, and I also wanted to sing for and improve the choir. But after the first practice session, I felt at home already. Sure, I'm not the best pianist in the world (not even of the school), but I'm glad that I get to play.

I'd made the decision to give up on the piano and focus on the cello in my undergraduate years at the beginning of the semester, but when I sat down on the piano bench and laid my fingers on the school's baby grand, I changed my mind. I was idiotically smiling on the inside as I thought: when I tried so hard to play on the piano, I wasn't going anywhere; and now, despite my heavy, cold-hearted attempt to shake it off, it came back to me after all. Now I have all the reason to mess with the piano and not get chased away.

A performance later, with numerous people stopping by the piano when I was either practising or personally jamming during practice sessions, my number got passed from one of the aforementioned people to the virtuoso singer, with whom I'm light acquaintance. That's when she called, asking me if I knew anyone who could play the keyboard for the accompaniment band. I volunteered, because I couldn't think of anyone else, and also because I wanted to try.

I tried, kind of liked it, got told that I can't play because I'd have to run between playing for choir and the band, took the rejection well, and then was called back again because there was just no one else. I don't feel sour over being the last option at all; typical showbiz stuff. So now I play for the school's orchestra on the cello, and choir and accompaniment band on the piano/keyboard. Cool.

And I was just thinking, once you are headed into a particular field, whether academic, career, or general interest, you really discover a whole new world. I started out innocently playing for the orchestra. And then the choir recruited; I joined simply because I like singing. I got pinpointed to be the keyboardist. People know me, I know people now, and I'm plunged into yet another music afiliation in school. I'm rediscovering that there's more to music than meets the eye (or ear); I already knew that, but I'm nonetheless taken aback by the miracles music can achieve. There's so much more to discover, and discovering more makes music more and more an essential part of my life.

What I'm trying to say is, if you're interested in something, don't be afraid to take the first step, because that's really all you need to do. Once you're into something, all the doors just come opening your way. If you are interested in soccer, you only need to start playing in a random match. Whether or not you suck, people will call you back for more matches, and then you'll start knowing more about it. And then (serious and sour on my part) an international team is going to come to your country to hold a match, which you will purchase the ticket to watch, if only you let your instinct grip you. Speaking of which, I did not, thus let a potentially fantastic match (I'll never know because I did not go) slip by. Don't let that happen.

Just go for it; a whole new world is awaiting.