Friday, February 22, 2013
Grow up.
Growing up. It meant lots of different things to different people. Learnt a new word today. Multifarious. Apt for that sentence. Haha, okay that's lame. You know today I realised something. I realised growing up means, it's hard to care for someone. But, it is so much harder to pretend you don't care, when that is all you want to do in the world. Why can't my life be easier? Why can't I be more honest? What have I got to lose? Before I lose anything, I've lost everything already.
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Pep-talk.
Chinese New Year passed by in a glimpse. It was peaceful, enjoyable, though not that exciting anymore. Guess I ain't that young anymore eh? Soon it's the most commercialised festival of the year, Valentine's Day. None of my business, really. Then it's my "day", which I can't help but feeling like to avoid it. Not cause I fear the ageing, nope. Just an awkward day where everyone is awkward. Just another day.
Forgotten why I started this post. Hmmm.. Oh I just finished climbing 26 floors at one go. Bad stamina really, but going to persevere and hope I can get fitter. Then..? Maybe train alongside Bro before he joins the army. Sometimes I feel sorry for him, cause I just can't be like those gentle, caring, demure sisters depicted in every possible scenarios. But I'm me, so bad luck for you, Bro.
The post is called pep-talk. So I guess I'm gonna pep-talk myself. I'm 24, not much achievements up-to-date except for a degree in hand. That's all really. And I've been wasting the past 9 months wallowing in self-pity, initially because I don't understand, followed by "Oh.." and then "Should I..."... and these sorts of stuffs. But after tested very discreetly (at least IMHO) for a few times, I agreed that I think too much. Borrowing a statement from a friend, that's not my fruit tree. Not only that, don't think the tree even flower (for me) in the first place. Must have mistaken some other people's tree as my own. Ah, it must be a 桜木, only for admiring. Touche.
So despite warnings like "You're gonna regret if you never try", "Why can't you just forsake your ego and be honest?" and stuffs like that, I still am not gonna try. Why? Call me a coward. Or nothing. But not going to do anything doesn't mean that I completely eliminated the tree. I just allow it to grow at some hidden place, so that one day if the tree intends to flower, I'll still be there. Hopeless much? Whatever. (I've been using whatever a lot lately. I always think it's rude. Maybe I'm getting rude.) On a side note, I don't understand why people act out of courtesy. Not that I'm asking people to be rude. But under private scenarios, maybe people can try and well, be sincere, rather than courteous.
Now, I know that I've been static for months. I need to move forward. I need to know why I chose this path in the first place. I need to recover my passion. So from now on, watch me. I'm going to warm you with passion. I'm going to keep searching, because my dream is to be a researcher. Someone said to me, it's a marathon. So instead of burning out, I'm going to do it a step at a time, warming myself. There's this picture I saw that day, the difference between 0.99 and 1.01. There you go, I'm going to step out of my shell and give that extra 0.01 everyday. ファイト！
Forgotten why I started this post. Hmmm.. Oh I just finished climbing 26 floors at one go. Bad stamina really, but going to persevere and hope I can get fitter. Then..? Maybe train alongside Bro before he joins the army. Sometimes I feel sorry for him, cause I just can't be like those gentle, caring, demure sisters depicted in every possible scenarios. But I'm me, so bad luck for you, Bro.
The post is called pep-talk. So I guess I'm gonna pep-talk myself. I'm 24, not much achievements up-to-date except for a degree in hand. That's all really. And I've been wasting the past 9 months wallowing in self-pity, initially because I don't understand, followed by "Oh.." and then "Should I..."... and these sorts of stuffs. But after tested very discreetly (at least IMHO) for a few times, I agreed that I think too much. Borrowing a statement from a friend, that's not my fruit tree. Not only that, don't think the tree even flower (for me) in the first place. Must have mistaken some other people's tree as my own. Ah, it must be a 桜木, only for admiring. Touche.
So despite warnings like "You're gonna regret if you never try", "Why can't you just forsake your ego and be honest?" and stuffs like that, I still am not gonna try. Why? Call me a coward. Or nothing. But not going to do anything doesn't mean that I completely eliminated the tree. I just allow it to grow at some hidden place, so that one day if the tree intends to flower, I'll still be there. Hopeless much? Whatever. (I've been using whatever a lot lately. I always think it's rude. Maybe I'm getting rude.) On a side note, I don't understand why people act out of courtesy. Not that I'm asking people to be rude. But under private scenarios, maybe people can try and well, be sincere, rather than courteous.
Now, I know that I've been static for months. I need to move forward. I need to know why I chose this path in the first place. I need to recover my passion. So from now on, watch me. I'm going to warm you with passion. I'm going to keep searching, because my dream is to be a researcher. Someone said to me, it's a marathon. So instead of burning out, I'm going to do it a step at a time, warming myself. There's this picture I saw that day, the difference between 0.99 and 1.01. There you go, I'm going to step out of my shell and give that extra 0.01 everyday. ファイト！
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Poem.
“Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Chops"
because that was the name of his dog
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
Valentine signed with a row of X's
and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it
Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"
because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint
And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.
Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle's Creed went
And he caught his sister
making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three a.m. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly
That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
Because that's what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn't think
he could reach the kitchen.”
― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower
What a poem.
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Chops"
because that was the name of his dog
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
Valentine signed with a row of X's
and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it
Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"
because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint
And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.
Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle's Creed went
And he caught his sister
making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three a.m. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly
That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
Because that's what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn't think
he could reach the kitchen.”
― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower
What a poem.
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