Tag: ramble on

swirl around

An old friend of mine asked about a week ago, what’s my life purpose.
And I told, straight to her face, without hesitant, that I wanted to die as soon as possible.

And also, the fact that I’m not the best person you could ask.

Hah. Gila.

Like the remark from some brother of mine, in one of my journals, scrawled in blank ink, in one of them blank pages;

“Who are you?”

Who am I indeed.

From one person to another, we impart on them different impressions, in different course of times. Only sometimes, the very same impressions strike differently on different people, who in behind their looking glass, see different things. A different perception. And when met again, these two figures, long parted, buried beneath the strife of whatever things that has come to past, but never, and never will be, forgotten, they both hold different views of each other. And suddenly what was then was not now, he, she, has changed, and you bite your lips in bitterness, cursing the passage of time.

And this is where you and I must part.

contra

alternative title : and it will all come to pass

i have nothing much to say here. whims, or things, don’t or, won’t matter much any more after a few days. like a dream which is remembered only moments after awakening; vivid images that hold certain ideas, they all vanish into the fog of that day, only to be rediscovered, years, months, decades, later. and when it does you know what to do. pile them on like a memorabilia. build shrines out of them, or put them neat like medals and trophies, one after another, recount them to the (occasional) visitor, amuse yourself, simplify words, stories bend bend bend twist twist twist kill kill kill them off.

or, go through their belongings, collect scraps of papers from them, or that reminds you of them, like the starting lesson of a Latin language (for what?), or the notes you exchanged, or the wrapping paper, or the crumpled paper with the basic guitar chords scrawled (which seemed fruitless), or a hate note dedicated to you on De Maupassant’s printed short story left overnight in the class(“english dapat 90 pun kau cakap sikit? pffft”), or them little boxes with your name stickered on it, or cards, bottles, frames, letters, poems, film strips, posters. anything. anything.

very….kitsch (!).

p/s: the very difference lies between what you see as mere facts that contain no meaning, unless given to you, that you fail – ooooh – to see anything beyond that. instead of what, we’d rather ask, what for? and so, alot of “so”s follows. never be so bent on following orders, like Miss Eliza, my maths teacher in Jalan Empat, used to say, in the most stately manner, “If I told you to jump off a cliff, would you jump?”

weight. the very thing that carries us down.

godawful

it’s certainly funny, watching you guys… support each other. but i don’t know. i really don’t. pat each others back, if you may, but i’m done. real done.

on another unrelated note, there’s this dude around these parts who decided to do each and every one of us classmates some sort of “portraiture”; a picture of you and solely you yourself, together with little nice descriptions about you. super scary. i suppose if one is reduced to simple adjectives, in two or three sentences, your whole being, in those tiny little spaces, you’d be pretty much interested to know about it. so i got mine yesterday or so.

Cool and steady. The picture speaks it all. Shes unparalleled on her qualities. Her mind is a complex one ready to be written or typed. Shes Mai, abbreviated for Maisarah.

funny eh. whatever “qualities” i had in the first place.
oh before i forget; alice (haha), i apologize because i can’t reply to your comment, yet, since well, i don’t know what else i should i write. i feel like i owe you some sort of reply because of the long odious you gave, so yeah. much of it contains many thanks, and uh perhaps yeah maybe i shouldn’t be too presumptuous, but it feels so old so i’ll pass, eh? i don’t feel to sage-y to be sprinkling advice or words around people. i don’t even feel qualified.

at any rate; this week is a week full of My Bloody Valentine, and The Jesus & Mary Chain. they remind me of rain, cars and lights, fluorescent lights, evenings, soggy ones, people queuing up for tickets, buying something; faces so bored, nights on the field with fog all over, looking at the stars; smoke and more smoke, and all that.

at any rate, i look forward for the weekend; times square, dean’s list awards (which isn’t really anything), and zoo negara, and finally home.

not too godawful at all, i guess.

i’ll go back, if you ask me

Okay, for once, a serious, post, written in English. I simply don’t have the time and the disposition any more to write here, except useless, spur of the moment posts, but after finishing a few homework or two earlier than usual (in what seemed like a rare thing for me to do) , I think I deserve to write here. Besides, my ‘killer’ headaches seems to have disappeared, miraculously; fortunately. This seemed to have staunched progress in writing in some other two books I have, but whatever. 
So uh, don’t ask me when I should publish, or that you want to read that “collection of essays” of mine I wrote back in 2008 (because they’re rubbish and uh.. mostly plagiarised. Also naive. Who would’ve wanted to read a poorly written piece on Existentialism laden with quotes from Nietzsche, eh? I’ve stuffed them – all three copies – in some bookcase back at home, stacked together with my dad’s thesis, to make it look most unappealing). I’m shifting all these, writing things, after these exams, in which will come to end in three to four weeks time. A month or two of holiday, then “Out, Out, Out!”, like Alexander De Large would exclaim in A Clockwork Orange (the movie) to Australia. 
The night is quiet here, the yellowing fan at the ceiling seemed to have outlived most of the new fans here; it only died, with a long buzzing, rustling, sound, yesterday. My room mate, have decided to spend the night elsewhere, and I, quite alone, am typing here, enjoying the breeze coming from the window (with no monkeys lurking around, heh) , or a non-breeze, just deathly silence, with the occasional sounds of footsteps outside.
I quite enjoy having time with myself. There’s not much use, talking to people, laughing all about, discussing, unless it leads somewhere. Idle talk. Not to say that I don’t do them, it’s just that I get weary, tremendously weary, from watching people talking too much, too loud, to too many people, at once. I think I just need to spend at least two hours per day just to think. Or to stare, dream, and do nothing. Thoughts, images, ideas, fantasies, conversations, they sprang up all at once. Seized by a thought, I’d write them down, or if not, I’d weave them about, get up, move my hands, speak in different tones and voices, quite amused by myself, then laugh hysterically. Preferably in the dark. And most importantly alone. Who would’ve wanted to witness such display of insanity? 
But of course, non would’ve expect this. Because we, present ourselves differently to different people. And I don’t know this ‘we’ I am talking about. It makes things simpler. Or you just don’t feel like it, like Holden Caufield would’ve said. I don’t know, I don’t have the book with me write now. I probably read it like ten times, even the Bahasa Melayu version, called… I don’t remember. “Penangkap Gandum” or something. But this is besides the point. 
The point is, sometimes, you feel like a goddam hypocrite in front of people, never quite knowing which is the real you, or whether there was any ‘real you’ in the first place. Making a farce of yourself. All wrapped up in some kind of warped, contradicting, personalities, when actually, inside; nothing. The question of ‘who am i, really’. Kinda lame, really, but whatever. All I know is that this is the main thing that launched me into the so called ‘existential depression’, or whatever you call it. And I don’t feel like talking about it either, because you don’t really, or you don’t feel too hot about talking about things concerning yourself. . And if I did, I would be so obscure about it, because yeah, I’m that secretive. Perhaps some other time. After all, who ever really talks about themselves? Like, really, talking about themselves, pertaining the issue of you, and solely, you; not in relation to others, books, films, interests and all that kind of things. 
But perhaps they don’t care. And they never do. And if they did, they’d ignore all this individual struggle and project their focus, towards external stuff. Things in life, and life in things, forever entangled; inseparable. Where they go, what they do, what they read, watch, listen, speak, buy, possess, who their friends are. Forever amassing things to relate to, so that in the end, they’d all say unto themselves, that there is some worth in their being, some meaning that would matter to them. So that all is not in vain. Positioning themselves into somewhere they can call, this is my abode, my rightful place. 
Yeah, how lovely that would be, eh?
Compared to us little dreamers, wanderers of  night, forever seeking for our rightful place, if any, on earth, and the heavens.
Heh. I’m done here. Ending Song. 

shiver stop shivering

I’ve a runny nose now. And boy it sucks. It’s been raining rather heavily these days. Chilly night breeze. Like, super chilly. It’s all okay every now and then, but with six hours in air conditioning non-stop during classes, you kinda wish for the opposite. I oppose air conditioning during learning hours. Or for any condition, for that matter. . But whatever; I’ve a flu now and bound to be feverish for the next couple of days, and this against loads of homework to do, and it’s kinda… ugh, stressful. I hate using that word, so no, it’s kinda… troublesome. leceh.

Speaking of academics, there has been a lot of laments and complaints from the lecturers about our uh, marks for last phase tests (or mid-terms), the one we had to sit before the raya holidays. I, for my own part , did rather, shitty-ly, but whatever. The thing is, compared to last semester, where everything is rather easy, this semester seems a bit of a… hassle. More homeworks, more strictly by the book lecturers, more elaborate lab reports. Perhaps, things haven’t changed much; only a few subjects bother us gravely,
But these lecturers, have great expectations towards us, us being “Transfer Degree Students”, the ones who are “gonna fly overseas”, “the selected ones”, “the best from the best”, “dipilih dari result Trial SPM” or that kinda bullshit . Henceforth they expect us to exceed all expectations and have excellent results. Or kalau ini OWL dalam Harry Potter, kau kena dapat O untuk Outstanding. Dah la bagi soalan extra susah, bagi “prepare untuk dunia luar. kat sana, lagi susah”. Macam babi, kan?
The thing is, and the truth about the difference between the secondary education and tertiary education, is that at the university level (i think), you require good studying ethics. Good SPM results doesn’t exactly translates to good working ethics. In school, things are spoonfed, 100% information comes from the teacher himself. Kalau tak pun, ada nota atau buku teks. You don’t need to go to classes or do buku latihan. Kau tak perlu sangat bertungkus lumus nak dapat result gempak. Effortless bebeh. Contoh terbaik semestinya aku. Tapi ini cerita lain.
Hey, but enter undergraduate studies, things are far different, in terms of dependence on learning materials and lectures. There’s homework to be done, little researches and cross referencing between different books and all that pile. Banyak masa kena spend nak buat homework, cause it’s worth a certain percentage. Kuiz gila babi banyak dan sering tak kena masa. Hei, takde life doh. They say, cara belajar kat MRSM macam belajar kat Universiti nanti. Tipu sungguh.
So yeah, bila kena bebel, now everyone is pulling their act together, insaf sikit, and start poring over books. Burning the midnight oil. Pay more attention to classes. Kurang tengok movie. Degree agak leceh, ye, rakan-rakan. Boleh buat kamu gila sebentar. Jadi, jangan main-main. Betul tak, Faiqah?
The thing is, I don’t own a single book relating to anything learnt here. Because they’re heavy and inconvenient. Then go borrow la, kan? Well I hate not being able to scribble in them books. So yeah, I’m lazy and don’t know much, and don’t have a clue about what I’m learning.
Plus, I’m kinda sick. Plus, I never wanted to pursue a higher education in the first place. Credentials, job stability my ass. Dostoevsky once said (wrote), that if he can to be anything he wanted to, he wanted to be a lazy man. Free, unattached. So yeah, I want to be lazy. Macam El duderino. I’d take comfort in that. So yeah, I’m compaining here, do ignore me.
Kerja buang masa.
title dari sini. red confetti and chasing. wooo.

stow them safe away, please

There hasn’t been much writing here, eh? All useless scraps of memories contorted and written that won’t make sense except to myself. And perhaps, to a few others. There is no greater pleasure than that. Perhaps, there is, but we won’t go into that.
I’m getting increasingly lazier to do things. No, it’s not that. Let’s rewrite that. I’m getting increasingly lazier at finishing things. Yes, that’s it. There’s too much stuff at hand, and too many things to let go. A much unsustained interest. Perhaps that would be it. Unable to complete things. Not liking the stuff you once like. I talk to myself. I’ve a friend named Tony. Yada yada. Textbook dsm iv depression weehee.
So you see, you can twist every single utterence into a symptom and pick whatever diagnosis matches best. Like you said, psuedoscience. Go do psychology, by all means, yeah. But don’t expect people to like you. Whatever noble cause you have of sincerely helping the unhealthy ‘broken’ people, keep it. Be Alyosha, pure kind and loving, Alyosha, listening to all the Ivans and Dmitris and Smerdyakovs in the world. Hah. Poyo sungguh. Tapi seriously, analytical>clinical, if you can choose. But then psychiatry is different from psychology. I dunno.
But whatever. I’m not the issue here. Not even you. Some girl around these parts is getting increasingly emo-er. Crying in the class. Getting avoidant and all. By occupying yourself with more important responsible stuff, you’re escaping from the responsibilty towards the self. What the hell, dude? But whatever. Better than to wallow in self pity and off to path destruction.
I’m not Sick Boy, downgrading your own struggle. I’m here to tell you something, and leave you off to whatever you want do next. Sometimes throwing a few stories or two. Old stories. But we mean no more damage. No more.
Heh, banyak gila reference. Maaf.

the same as it was before

the thought that writing this, subsists trough time, unlike pure imaginary thought, is a haunting one. it is not like one of shakespeare’s sonnets; his beloved’s beauty captured, immortal, read by others. no, nothing of that sort. for there’s no beauty in this whatsoever. just a bunch immaculate words jumbled, mashed up together, thinking that they form some idea or thought, so that they may be understood by others. write an epigram or two, which could easily be substituted by the name of crappy poems, and be thought profound by others.

in the first place, and in the first place, i don’t know why the fuck i would keep coming back writing here, when i’ve got other places to write on. it’s not as if it would be consolation or something. producing something out of your head, either verbally or in writing, does nothing but to arrange your thoughts, make them coherent to others, communicate them in order to generate a mutual understanding between two individuals.
but fuck, i know that i never quite find the exact words to express anything tangible. it’s not a complete mystery or anything, or deeply complicated, but it’s just messed up. scraps of events here and there, tiny ornaments that seem to signify something, people that seem to seamlessly fly out of your hands, useless pile of information that was never put to good use, a wide range of knowledge of pop culture, literature, music, poetry, myths, films, paintings, symbols, history, buildings and shit. you get all fed all sorts of stuff you don’t quite know how to blurt anything out except rubbish.
add this to the diminishing amount of vocabulary i seem to have, the degeneration of this brain which gets only worse by the day, or by age for that matter, the amount of responsibility and duty which comes with that, it’s getting annoyingly depressing. now one often hears this particular word uttered by friends and people alike. and hey hey give me my happy pills if it makes me feel better. it’s fucking annoying, i tell you. it does nothing but make you feel numb and dumb, tired and bored, wallowing in self pity; it’s makes it all worse.
if only it was as easy as that.

what i’m learning 2

Or the, second semester of Electrical Engineering subject review. For those who care to know. While it is almost unfair to judge subjects based on only two weeks of learning, I figured I’d better surmise things up before I run out of excitement. Uh, and it’s not only the subject review, but the lecturer’s as well. Because I am too lazy to buy/read/borrow any whatsoever book related to the field of engineering, so these things are purely based on classes attended. So yeah, minta maaf. Anyway, without further ado. Long post.
Also comes with typing lecterurs. Partly for fun. So in terms of ranking;
***
1. Introduction to Digital Electronics
Mostly has to do with logic gates, binary numbers, adding and subtraction, and the methods surrounding it. And perhaps building the simplest circuits using those AND, OR gates and stuff. This subject, as of now, is, as Stephane from Science of Sleep would have put it, fascinating. Perhaps because we haven’t moved to the theoretical part of it. Here, logic prevails and it’s fun to figure out how some sequences came to be. By far my favourite.
About the lecterur himself, he seems extremely eloquent in terms of his speech. His choice of words suggests he is well read, things like “ultimately”, “manipulate”, “establish”, and his most favourite; “as far as … is concerned”. Super awesome. Highly intuivitive, pretty much aloof, suggesting NT, but I haven’t figured out the rest yet. Perhaps ENTJ, but I’ll get back to this later. And yeh, he’s fun, so I like him. I mean, who else could say “you are the son of your father” to demonstrate double terms of a the same meaning (or a double negative, for that matter).
2.Engineering Mechanics
Your ordinary Physics subject. Having left Physics for so long, paying no attention to it last year since there is no need (for you could copy, and uh, stuff), and also laziness, it’s kinda alright to learn it again. But I don’t know. So far, we also recapped the basics, which is fundamentally easy, so uh, we’ll see how it goes. Physics has always been fun, because it’s mostly visualization, and numbers. It’s easy to understand. Blah blah blah. Oh the lecturer. She’s alright, because there’s no homework. Classes finish early. So yeah I like. Haven’t typed her yet. She doesn’t say much. Possibly an IXXP.
3.Circuit Theory 2
Hmmmm, mostly still about calculating voltages, current, resistance, and stuff on circuit. Nothing new, I guess, compared to last semester, where we already learned most of em topics. A bit additional ones maybe in the following ones. A bit slow in calculating these things, since I never paid attention much last semester. Mostly because I never had the proper paper to write these things in.
It amazes me how people can do calculations oh so neatly. And liquid and cross out things and stuff. As long as I remember, If I had a piece of paper, I’d probably do about 30 long questions on em in all manners and directions and ink, because writing em nice and proper seems to be a waste of time. Which is why I hated and don’t do homeworks in the first place. Which is why no one bothers to ask me for answers. Which is teachers never look whenever I do my calculations; they’re effing messy. Ngeh.
At any rate, the guy teaching us seems to have a penchant for jokes and calling people all sorta stuff, like “Bebeh”. Also, he’s a former engineer, manages a team of other engineers and technicians, or so it seems. So he’s loaded with these uh, engineering terms in which I am not familiar with. Like flashover, and break load or something. Yeh, I know what those mean (now), but it made me think how awfully ignorant I am with these uh, practical applications stuff about being an engineeer. Frankly, I have no effing clue how it’s like being one. Guy’s postively an ENFP, based on how he like to relate to people and uh, some other loadsa stuff. I’m too lazy to explain. He’s alright.
4.Engineering Mathematics 2
Your ordinary higher mathematics. Diff, integ, function, stats and all that. Perhaps the same stuff learn over the past two years, with a bit of additional methods here and there. I never liked mathematics as soon as it goes over to the ‘higher realm’. Maths, have always been to me, an easy subject. Partly because I almost like to measure and estimate stuff. Out of boredom. But yeh, you come here, learn all these stuff, and you don’t know what the eff you’re supposed to do about all these things. The practical applications of it. Not to say that I am strictly a utilitarian, but I just don’t see the point yet. An okay subject, but not much fun.
About the classes, there’s homework like wtf. Kena hantar wtf. Ngeh. Me no like. One word about the lecturer : squishy. It’s almost darling to watch her. ESFJ or ISFJ. I’m thinking of the latter.
5.Critical Thinking
Hmmm… I have a lot to say on this, I might as well save it for another post. I hate this subject. Telling people to think critically is a stupid idea. It’s a sneaky little subject, I’d say. I thought it would be something dealing about theories regarding critical thinking; turns out it was some run down playhouse version of English. Massively annoying. It doesn’t matter now, anyway. There would be movie reviews or analysis or something like that later, which seems like fun, but theres seems to no point getting worked up. I’d probably do The Big Lebowski just for the kicks.
Teacher seems extremely hyper, very ESXX but I haven’t made up my mind yet. Somehow I don’t think the idea of showering compliments to every single person like we’re eight year old dudes is very wise. Frown on.
6.Electronics 1
Um, transistors, amplifiers, speakers, signals, waves. Boring stuff. Never liked it. It’s a boring subject, I tell you. It reeks of details. Unimaginative. Lecturer is one self-satisfied, imposing, know-it-all, woman. I am reminded of Dolores Umbridge, but let’s not go too far, shall we? Tak baik. An SJ.
***
All in all, my enthusiasm to learn everything stated above wouldn’t last long, but hopefully I’ll manage somehow. Dad is complaining how unheimlich it is to get 3.94, and saying even if I do get a 4.00, it’d be 3.97, which ain’t too pretty. So yeah, I know. Pretty or not, I won’t give much thought to it until I do get the result. Meh.
Tomorrow morning I’d be doing the IELTS thingy, something that would equate to TOEFL or MUET, some kinda english proficiency testing and stuff, only that you need to score at a certain level to enter universities overseas. Something like that. While I haven’t been doing much except one reading test, in which i scored pretty badly, out of laziness, I’ll be alright. Some said it’s possible to score a 9, but meh, an 8 would do. Or 8.5. Dunno. Doesn’t matter.
Uber-long post. This should suffice for my IELTS practice. Imma gonna sleep.

merely a blip

to write about anything without fearing the consequences, one must ensure that it does not, in a way, goes against the very principle of the self, or any other value. but what if, these principles are ever so changing, and cannot be indentified, at least for the time being?

to say that something, or a principle cannot be indentified, now that seems to call for some examination. it can be vaguely seen, like a fleeting shadow, roughly outlined, but never be understood completely. for how can you be so sure of something, and to put an absolute stand on things based on mere observations and/or a gathering of facts?
geh.