Don’t Know Why I Do

Posted on July 23, 2008

It’s not like I need you.

Honestly, I don’t know why I put up with you the way I did and still will. I keep waiting for myself to grow tired of being on my toes, waiting for you to reciprocate, but I am just too damned stubborn and persistent when it comes to anything that isn’t running after me the way I am terrified of.

However I look at it, I’m stuck.

My Momma Said, Don’t Play With Politics

Posted on July 20, 2008

When I was 18, in matriculation college, in a tiny state that was breeding minds of similar physical magnitude, I considered myself the liberalist.

But I was young.

When the principal of the institution passed a new implementation - that hostel gates would be locked at 8 o’clock every weekday morning, forcing all students to leave their rooms regardless of whether their first class of the day began at 8am or noon - I fumed.

Back then I spent lots of time and money in the cyber cafe, chronicling all these gripes that arose out of cultural differences. I was furious with the new law and so I wrote a new entry in my blog, calling the principal a dictator, who danced barefoot… I really can’t recall now what the barefoot part had to do with anything, but I digress.

My English lecturer called me regarding that particular blog post one day, telling me that the whole office was looking at it, and I had better remove it. I spoke my mind back then, but I was not self-assured enough to stop myself from reacting in panic, by removing a post, that was perfectly harmless and non-slanderous in nature.

Fast forward to 17th of July, year 2008.

I am all self-righteous. “Heroic”, someone said. But that’s total bull, for if they had found my outspokenness exemplary, they would have broke the silence that impeded when I was made to shut up. There’s a fine line between tact and rash. I really don’t know where I stand.

However, despite all the shit I have landed myself in, I am self-assuredly satisfied. Because I did not stoop to his level. He asked for a question, an opinion, “or a critique, even”. I raised my hands, and delivered a civilised question.

“This question is for Dr XXX (staff). I respect you for being well traveled. I just want to ask if you have been in a country where they hold separate interviews for different races. This is a rhetorical question and you can choose not to answer it -”

Dr XXX was about to answer when he cuts her off and said “I want to answer that. Yes there is. (long pause) In fact, kat Malaysia pun ade.”

“I know. I saw it on Monday. In fact, En YYY spoke of feeling of inferiority, I saw that too on Monday, when these three girls were denied an equal opportunity to attend the same interview. I’m not even saying that they deserve to pass the interview, all I’m saying is that they should have been given at least an explanation for why they had to wait outside the room, watching their peers walk in and later come out of the conference room.”

And then all 3 of his staffs exploded and condemned me, saying that an explanation was given to these girls, that a separate slot for interview would be held for non-muslims, and that he was planning to do it on a nomination basis. Which contradicted his reply to an earlier question of mine, where he said that nomination “was the cara lama.”

But really. The question under my “rhetorical question” was, why have separate interviews at all? What are you trying to achieve by making the delineations so clear for all to see?

That 2 minutes of outburst between me and 5 adults who have obviously mentally prepared their discourse, was at the very least, illuminating.

It confirmed my suspicion that he never quite knew what to make of me because I was a debater, who have always opted to remain silent in meetings. On the flip side of the coin, it confirmed his long-time suspicion that I spell trouble because I “speak good English”.

It was also the first time I received a compliment in the form of an accusation.

“How dare you judge me! The way you say it, you are judging me. I know you speak good English, but who are you to judge me.”

Hello, World.

Yellow Piece O’ Shit

Posted on July 16, 2008

I am never signing a resignation letter that was typed on my behalf. Right now, I am just waiting for him to stumble a little from all that superiority clouding his head.

Go on and exert force. I dare you.

Taking Steps Backward

Posted on July 15, 2008

It is 1.40am and I am near death. Sneezing all day long is a very draining activity. On top of that, all that thinking, interpreting, analyzing and evaluating - that I’ve had to do since my sedentary, non-thinking mode, was rudely interrupted by power struggles - is using up so much of my fuel.

Maybe I can speak a little less vaguely when my little brain exercise has actually induced positive turn of events. Now’s too early to say.

Here’s a draft I made on 26th of June. Factually, near irrelevance now, but still relevant enough sentimentally for me to not Ctrl+A+Delete.

One of my new year’s resolution, was to list a hundred things that made me happy.

A good number of them had their roles promptly reversed last night. Things that I loved, but now with too much sentimental value attached to love anymore.

1. Milk Pocky
2. Those fish-shaped Pucca choco-pretzels
3. Chai Tea Latte
4. The combination of dried cranberries and almond flakes
5. The smell of musky aftershave
6. Mauro di Maggio’s Non ti voglio fermare

Epilogue

Posted on June 26, 2008

Hello I am pissed wtf. What do you mean “what can you say”? There’s a million things that you can say, like ask me to change my mind, for instance. Oh I forgot. Try to question the lame “I don’t think it will work out” reason that I came up with, why don’t you?

Only because my horoscope tells me today is a good day for introspection, I’ll say this: That I would miss you a shit load because I am too self-absorbed for my own good. You showering me (chubbiness and all) with adoration, became the one thing that I turned to you for.

As much as I am still annoyed that you so easily let go of me - despite of all those premature professions of love you’ve been making - I guess I have to admit that it wasn’t fair for you because I was growing fond of you for the wrong reasons. And it would have been unfair for me to be pining for you when the fact is that you would never have had made time for us.

I’ll be okay in about two days’ time. Right now things are already looking up, because my favourite lecturer (and also the lecturer that I intend to have as my thesis supervisor next semester) gave me a RM10 per hour job to do from the comfort of my room, and it looks like I’ll be up all night working on it, after the iced long black and two iced caffe lattes I’ve had in the day.

Then I’ll go splurge on a nice handbag, and this chapter is closed for good.

Come to think of it, I am mighty proud of myself for writing a story with nothing in between the prologue and the end; then, a nice grand visual in the epilogue.

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