The Grey Area In The Head

Bro. Am I busy? Sure does.

You can tell it’s true by the total lack of posting here. It’s not that I don’t care but if I can’t give any positive insights on anything that I perceive on, I don’t see the necessity to write it here. I don’t enjoy giving people negative vibes. It’s like assuring people that I’ll give them the potion they needed but give them something worse eventually. You wouldn’t want that. Neither do I.

I’ve been thinking. Always dangerous, I know. I have a couple of projects or should I say ideas/proposals that I’m wondering where to put. I think being with the right people is important. It requires determination, perseverance and that little bit of luck. I learnt something from ‘Sudin’, a character that I acted in the drama series, ‘Balik Sekolah’. Sure, I don’t want to be him. Not in a million years. But I learnt from ‘him’ the perseverance factor that I’ve been lacking of. It’s always nice when I get to learn something from the character that I’ve acted on. It builds me up, one way or another. But, say, what if someone is tearing you down so that he can builds oneself up? I don’t quite understand why it must be so. Do you?

Say, I often don’t admit my sleepless nights ever since my father went away. When I have, I invariably experience a weird kind of happiness from the other person, a “fuh, she was wrong after all!” and it’s worse that that coz some people do desperate, bad, mean, horrible and hateful things to bury their insecurities.

Because of that, I don’t share easily. I don’t trust easily. I’ve been told I’m laid back, quite confident and friendly, I tend to let things flow. It’s not that I don’t have my opinions and insecurities – enough that I wonder how I hide them well enough to be considered laid back, confident, even.

After years of fighting others’ insecurities, like a disease, I try hard not to let my insecurity run my life. I’ve seen the horrible effect it has on ordinarily nice people. It’s sad to see them in such state. It’s like a demon inside, insidious and hateful. A cancer that destroys kindness. And it’s catching. I’d say money is not the root of all evil. Insecurity is the root of all evil. Coz what people do when reminded of their insecurities?

Everybody together now and shout: They go all righteous on your ass. :)

But we need insecurity. Because the big thing we don’t admit, the secret many of us do desperate, bad, mean, horrible and hateful things to hide, is that insecurities are supposed to plague us. Without insecurity to balance out our natural survivalist egos, we would be assholes. Oh… well, we just got to accept it. Just don’t let it run our life.

Some said religion is the root of all evil. Come on people. People would always find another excuse to fight. True, some people wield religion like a weapon. But a gun doesn’t pull its own trigger and you can kill with a cooking knife. These same people seem to need rules and boundaries to hem others in, to keep themselves feeling safe.

I’m not much for rules and boundaries. And I’ve said before, my faith makes me a better person. It reminds me of the simple lessons of common decency. I’ll be quiet when one points their insecurity. Quietly praying for them.

Eid Mubarak to you.

Reversing The Banausic

Banausic
1. Merely mechanical; “a sensitive, self-conscious creature... in sad revolt against uncongenially banausic employment”
2. Of or relating to a mechanic.
3. Ordinarily or not refined

Nearly perfect. It's always heartening to find a good word. My favorite is when the word has multiple definitions and all of them fit; all of them contribute to your current need. Banausic doesn't quite work that way, but it seems to be how things are going for now. Nothing is excellent. It's just... going. Routine.

I'm rather at a still point, I suspect. Nothing bad in particular has happened; I'm just set on coast. Work is good, soccer is average, smoke is decreasing by the days and I'm working out again (running that is).

It's not all deliriousness, of course. I haven't been out in awhile, and no one seems to want to go(or maybe it is me who don’t). The swollen gum decided to join in the fun with tonsillitis, migraine and flu bug last weekend. It could be that I'm still feeling low from my own three weeks of sickness that seems to be dragging on. My voice is still not completely there, but I'm able to sing along with the music on MTV(badly) and I answer the phone more often than not.

I've rearranged the books on my shelf. I'm catching up (again) on the bank statements. I've written a pretty good short story lately which stretched my own social and writing mores (the one piece that doesn't seem to raise my ire at my own inability.) I bought a few good books to read. I bought new stuffs for the house and I'm getting a fresh coat of white paint on all the trim in my house--a much needed, yet significant, expensive undertaking. But still... I'm obviously needing to organize or shake things up, because that petty shit isn't working.

I think it's that life is set on a roller coaster while I'm shifting through still shots.

It's because of the work, of course, though I haven't paid nearly enough dues to feel this way. I haven't received any recent major rejections; I haven't been scoffed or derided. Not sure on the back though. I'm writing, every day. But right now cleaning the house looks fun in comparison. Everything I do is shit. All my past work seems to be shit, as well--rife with stupid mistakes and missed opportunities.

I realize it's as simple as perception slanted by temperament. Why else would one day I love my work and the next hate it so? But the real question that nags is which slant is correct? Is the mirror right or is my perception correct? In other words, if it truly is shit, then why proceed? (Well, I know I would continue to do what I do--that'd be like stopping the tides) But I could give up on "the dream" I suppose. I wouldn't submit happily, but it's not as if IT is all I've got in my life. I'm extremely fortunate by any standard. The best mom, two great sisters(still enjoying in Dubai), good buddies, blah blah blah...

Only, I can't. I can't feature a future without it, or actually many, in print. I suspect this is when the tough get going?

And so, this is why I'm so still. So eh. Over damn work.

I’m reversing the banausic. Still. With still shots hanging over my head and one shot to the night sky. Happy reading.

Raise Your Glass

I suppose I should write something this week. As one of my readers pointed it out, I think many a time before I write. True. In fact, I’d love to write almost daily. I just need to get rid of the biasness of certain topics that I’m clinging on due to the world I’m hearing or mix with. That’s the difficult part. I don’t want to write when I’m angry. Negative energy. Or I assume that a certain topic is that and that. Uh…uh… no thanks.

When one gets angry or annoyed or you know what… one tends to blurt it out all the words or actions of what may have or not caused it… as if the whole world is against him. Sometimes it comes out pretty ok but most of the times, it turns out bad enough to get the avalanche, which will come soon after. And so I skip. I’d drain my mind with work or soccer and laughter. Laughter is one hell of a medicine. I have a bunch of friends who crack me up every time we meet up. “It’s the simple life!” one may assume… but at times, assuming can be negative as well.


I assume it’s ok to assume that something good/positive for a person. I think that’s fine but to assume something bad about someone with baseless words or actions or “ I heard that from someone”… come on. Go on and do something else. Maybe try reading books. Fiction or non-fiction. Biography or autobiography. Or blogs. Whatever. You know when you start to read and you’ll get the kick out of it, you’ll want more. You’ll get connected with the writer somehow. And as the writer for this blog, topics/agendas here are important to me as a writer and of the little world I've created. It's my discovery tool.

“You want your reader to go along the discovery process with you. “

That one compliment, while it felt good, of course, led me to an important truth as a writer. I can always write something negative here. OH.. heck no, I can say it verbally instead of writing but that’s not helping. We humans have many annoying traits, not the least of which is our heartlessness when it comes to someone else's. One thing we loooove to do is to critique others or their work. It gives us a thrill to find mistakes. (See? I'm good enough to at least find them. Of course there's always that niggling thought--See? I made that mistake, too. Fuck.)

But what we aren’t often doing is pointing out the good bits. Finding the good in others’ and ourselves is as important as finding the fuck-ups. So if you are wrong in all the right ways, raise your glass. To all my underdogs, we will never be, never be anything but loud. Yes I quote this from Pink but unlike Pink, raise your glass not for me but for your own good. Let’s do it loud but with integrity. Happy Holidays. ☺

The Long Road

"Can I wait for so long?
I cannot say
Oh, the precious moments...
Cannot stay
It's not like winds have fallen...
I cannot say
Without you something's missing...
I cannot say
Oh, the hands of dawn in his heart
And their face is falling down
Down, down, down...
I have wished for so long...
Now I wish for you again
Will I walk the long road?
I cannot say."
- Eddie Vedder

And so, 2010 is going. Every year, we'll always wish the upcoming year will be better. But at times, 'better' doesn't necessarily make us happy. Better in work. Better in health. Better in $$. Better in learning our mistakes. Better in appreciating our family and friends more. To be better in the society. Better as an individual. Better as a person.

So let us be better in within ourselves first and look forward to the year with a 'happy' heart! :)

The Bridge

“The mind is the heartbeat of your actions.” Anonymous




Someone once told me that there used to be a bridge where people jumped off, which is another way to go.

It takes four seconds...

One…

Two…

Three…

Four…

...to hit the water. All the survivors (though they think the death rate is much higher) report that they really wanted to die when they had two feet on the bridge, but as soon as they were airborne they really wanted to live. You've got to hit the water feet first, at a slight angle. You won't be ok for sure. But you might... emphasis on might... live.

At 180-220 feet above the water, the bridge is a good place to kill yourself dead. Every two weeks or so somebody tried it, dropping 75 miles an hour for four seconds without a parachute, a life vest, or a seat belt, to die of blunt injuries four seconds later.

I've never much understood suicide. Oh sure, things are bad, and sometimes, or maybe always, the person is sick at heart and in the head. Never had a suicidal thought though.

I've always thought that killing, whether yourself or somebody else, was for crazy people. To me, convictions aren't about just guilt, they're about how sick one was. It's been convenient for me to maintain an assumption of insanity in order to put words to a complicated phenomenon. But now some things are leading me away from that theory. Maybe those of us who do not kill are the ones who are insane. Perhaps we're all death machines, in one way or another. After all, from our first breath of life, we put a foot on the rode to death.

I have read stories about death. There’s one where I realized a prime character died, greatly affecting the well-being and success of the main character. Actually, at the start of the story, the main character ‘kills’ someone. He thinks it will solve his problems. It ends up just setting those problems loose to do real damage.

The easy part is getting the reaction of the protagonist: shock, or if he's hardened, like the main character, he can mostly take it in stride. A few deaths have touched him during his journey, and I've noticed that he's become quite the old softy as the book progresses. By the time he runs across his dead ‘soldiers’ stacked in front of him, he's pretty shaken up.

More difficult to treat are the antagonists. Why do they do what they do? Why do they kill? To them killing is a means to an end, sure. But what do they want? Power? Revenge? Are they so consumed by hatred or rage that it has surpassed their humanness? Yeah. Sure. Easy to write. Difficult to comprehend. Kinda like killing=insanity. But who among us has been so threatened, so jealous, that we'd kill somebody? No one that I know.

So, me? I'd kill in self defence. I'd fight back if someone entered my home or threatened my family, and if they ended up dead, then they're dead. I've always wondered if I might kill someone, accidently, of course. But I won't commit suicide. If there's a note, I didn't write it. If there's a gun in my hand, I didn't put it in my mouth.

But I do understand that four seconds. I've jumped off that bridge before. I'm midair right now, in fact, and I know I'm going down, what with gravity and all. The seconds are ticking by, and though I had to jump again, I'm just not sure when or how I'm gonna land.

Hopefully feet first, at a slight angle.

Happy reading.

As If the Details Are Not Enough…

“There are only two types of problems in this world. One is from God. To see whether we are up for the challenges ahead. The other is by us. We create those problems. Let’s try to minimise it then.” - Anonymous

I was looking at my schedule and then it struck me. I’m getting bored already. I’ve just started and I can sense the routine ahead of me. And I really don’t know how I’m gonna feel when I start to get familiar with it.

When you're really familiar with something, tiny differences render exponential results. Because there is something about routine that makes life feel completely pointless. It's like carrying around a brick of shit tied to a leash everywhere you go. It can't walk, you gotta drag it, it smells bad, sometimes you back up and step on it, and at the end of the day you look at your piece of shit and think, "Why am I carrying this around?". There is no point. And so do I feel with routine.

I lived everyday the same as the last, I am excited by nothing. Surprised by nothing. I'm merely living for the variables, the details that change from day to day, which are fleeting and equal nothing in the grande scheme of things.

But then it occured to me that I had it wrong, or mostly wrong. What does the grande scheme of things matter?

People in general are terrible at seeing the big picture. We live in a linear society, where the average person moves from detail to detail in order to see any piece of this infinite puzzle. Yet when it comes to finding meaning, people want the big picture. So we dream of big electrons in the sky and dudes with beards sitting on clouds playing chess, and I wonder, were the details not enough??

For some reason, I thought at the age of seven I should remember that moment and never forget. I remember playing in a pool of mud and having deep thoughts. I was contemplating God way back then. Whatever conclusions I came to then still shape who I am now. At the age of eight, I couldn't figure out the idea of God not having a beginning and an end when everything else around me does, including myself. I had a discussion about that with another friend who was about eight as well. Do most eight year olds talk about this stuff?

Twenty years on, I guess I figure it out. I guess few truly know what it means to stop and smell the roses. Fuck it, feel them too. Take a pedal, stick it in your mouth and chew on it. Rub them on your face. It's something different. My point is, finding meaning in life is hard, it takes skill to be happy.

One thing I have learned is that regardless of what our faults are, whether sexually, emotionally, financially, physically, or being self-righteous; we are on the same playing field with God. We all need him. That is the biggest gripe I have of being identified as a Muslim. People are naturally skeptical. I don't blame them.

I guess as things unfold as I explain my life day by day or perhaps every other blog entry by every other entry, the readers will be able to best determine if there is any difference in my life and theirs, and if they think it has anything to do with God. ;)

Interlude: For A Better New Day

When you stay up for a day or two straight, the days begin to meld into one another. Not having awakening as a key to when the next day is, all you have to go by is your preconcieved notions of dawn. When it gets light out, there. That's the new day.


My friend and I invented a less confusing system than the "midnight as beginning of the new day" one currently in place by our damn Earth's rotation around the sun. See, the beginning to each new day is relative to each individual. When you wake up is when the new day has begun, not at midnight. Because who goes to sleep before midnight anymore? Maybe there is but it gets to me when you talk to someone after midnight about doing something tomorrow, and they get all smart-ass on you and say "You mean today ha ha ha ha ha". Nope. Not anymore. Tomorrow begins when you awake. And in the aforementioned case of staying up all night, the new day will officially begin at 6:00 AM, as this is around when the sun rises. Only the smart-aleck who feel the need to meticulously argue about stupid inane details will find this new system difficult. But we don't like talking to those people anyway, now do we?

One more thing. Why is it that it's a penny for your thoughts, but if one desires to put forth their opinion it is referred to as their two cents? The price doubles based on who wants the opinion to be given? Sounds like a scam to me. But, again, we don't want to talk about those things either, do we?

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to not sleeping. Gotta run. Good night.