.::: I Remember :::.

I remember this feeling. My body remembers this fatigue I feel. My mind remembers this feeling of hopelessness, but there's an automatic combat mechanism inside of me trying to suppress it this time round so I'm still not showing it. I remember this feeling very well.

The last time I felt like this was around 8 months ago, when I was brought here and left on my own for nearly two months, with every single living cell in me rejecting this place. The pressure of having to face off a tough subject like Accelerated Maths 2 with no previous experience of how lectures in a huge hall were like, slowly got to me. I worked twice as hard, but no matter what, it still felt very empty. It didn't feel right. I didn't feel like myself.

Could math have stopped appealing to me? Was I, after all, kidding myself when I thought maths was the one thing that I could take on? I was unprepared, 7 whole months of unrelated work after leaving college has made room for everything I knew to rot. I was frustrated at where I was, the grass everywhere else seemed greener at that point. Eventhough that wasn't the case.

Then the midsem break came and I couldn't have been more excited and happy to go home. In my head somewhere, I told myself, I probably won't be coming back here again.

But two weeks at home, just lazing around, doing the everyday stuff that seemed trivial in every way, totally living life as if I'd never come to uni worked wonders. All the tensions broke loose, all my fears and frustration melted away like a sugar cube. And I came back. To the place I thought I would abandon.

That week after my two weeks at home, I immediately had four assignments due. I should have panicked and broken down. It should have ended there. But I was calm. I saw it through and I felt so proud of myself for that. Where did all this strength suddenly come from? Suddenly, Accelerated Maths seemed to talk to me again, I began to truly enjoy what I was doing once more. And I began to accept things around me like it was natural for me to, eventhough I was rejecting everythng before. And just like that, semester 1 ended really well for me, in a way I'd never imagined possible before I went back to Malaysia the first time.

I remember. I remember what gave me that change. What gave me that extra boost that suddenly made the coin flip sides, what made everything suddenly seem better. It was 'home'. One week at home and I'd be ready to take on the world.

I remember this feeling. It's homesickness. I miss home. I miss everyone so badly I would drop everything right now and come home. Even when I was in my spot of sun, I still went home each weekend. But it's no longer a three hour bus ride. It's a whole 8 hours at a price that doesn't allow for me to be home every weekend. Oh those simple weekends at home. How I miss them. How I miss all of you. How I hate not being able to see you all in person. How I miss the hugs, the teasing, the smalltalk when we'd all be in the same room waiting to fall asleep, the laughter, the out-of-tune singing to the radio or our travelling games, camping in front of the television in the living room and not moving until we finished that series, the background yelling of two very annoying online gamers that should really get a life, looking for the right weeds and grass for Fluffy, cooking with and for Grandma, my piano, my room, my stash of anime DVDs. How I miss home.

This is a feeling no one else outside 'our world' will understand. I don't need to travel around the world. I don't want to visit places during my breaks just because 'I'm already here, I might as well'. I know exactly what I want. I want to be right there, next to all of you. I want to be home.

So I'll hang on and count down the days. I'll be strong and do my best. Because I remember why I came back here and why I had to come here. 58 more days. 58 more days and I'll be home. Where I remember being the happiest I could ever be.

The Nightmare.

One of those nights. Just one of those nights.

When you've gotten all comfortable in bed; wrapped up in warm blankets and hug your bolster while shifting to find the perfect position to drift away to sleep. You don't know how much time passes before you start to hear voices. All these voices in your head. They're talking, you're listening. They're saying things that you will lose memory of when you wake up. You don't know what happens, but the talking picks up speed, your heart beats slightly faster and you know it's happening again. The nightmare.

The irony is that nothing happens this time. There's just this heavy feeling on your chest. There's just fear. But that's when it's the worst. When you don't know what you're afraid of. If it was at least a dream where you had something to run away from, you could do something about it. But you can't. You want to scream, but your voice just catches on your throat and all you're expelling is carbon dioxide. You want to move, but your body movements are completely sealed. A million thoughts flow through your head (odd isn't it, when the dream is literally in your head already, so it's a bit like inception at this point). You wake up to another dream, same things, same fear and you wake up again, but you're still there. This repeats so many times, that at some point, you don't even know whether you're still dreaming or you've already woken up. And you question everything around you. There's nothing you can do but wait for it to be over.

That's the kind of nightmares I get. Only at night. Some have tried to explain it as mere REM sleep, something a normal person goes through. It'd be good if that was all it was.

 I don't want to give up on my dreams. I don't want to hate the same things that calm me down and bring me joy. I don't want to hate the darkness the night brings. So, please don't make me.

You know what's scarier? My dreams have always reflected real life. Always.

The 2013 To-do List.

It's February, hardly the first month of the year but hey, Chinese New Year's still not over yet so I'm not too late in posting my New Year's Resolutions for 2013. (It took me a while to think of a proper list, might get longer along the way with updates.)

1. Enjoy life in Melbourne So maybe I'll try not get homesick as much, be more familiar with surroundings (yes I'll try to enlarge my 5km radius perimeter from my unit alright?), balance work and play, experiment a lot more in food and cooking, make full use of the high-speed internet to indulge in more anim-- erm, I mean... Yeah, you get the idea.

2. Maintain first class honours in my course and not go green with jealousy at people with day-offs. 
/hmph.

3. Try something new. Credit to Mr Fortune Cookie, could be anything. Paintball seems like the first on the list though.

4. Read a bit more (not just manga, but proper english articles /gulp.)

5. Exercise. I realized I don't exercise much. Okay, scratch that. My only form of exercise is walking to uni and back. So maybe this year I'll try going jogging or go on the treadmill once a month or something. Just to build stamina so I can kick butt when I come back for Galactic Laser and DDR.

6. Write again. Those unfinished stories and novels aren't going to write themselves after all.

7. Learn at least 3 more songs on the piano this year. 
May seem very little but hey, I can't bring my keyboard to Melb so this shall be done only during my winter and summer breaks. Unless I find a piano there.

8. Kanji. By the end of this year, I expect to have at least memorized all the kanji in the JLPT N5 list. Even if I don't /touchwood manage to enrol in Jap2.

9. Be myself. 
Because that's the only person I'm comfortable being and I'm not changing that anytime soon.
Phew. That's it for now I guess. Let's work hard this year, Ayame. :)

All it takes is one flick of a finger, and then it'll all shatter.

I've long realized life's been imperfect (Though at times, everything was perfect, even if it was only that small frame of time.) But since when did imperfection become so bad?

I won't lie. I haven't exactly been living in a castle built on a rainbow with cute little unicorn ponies galloping around the lush green meadows with bright sunflowers and peonies surrounding the castle. I haven't exactly been living in a hell-hole either. There has always been this somewhat careful balance in between everything. A silent weighing scale that holds a little bit of the good and bad on both sides. And there was always a veil, a veil to cover the mechanism behind the machine so that everyone would be kept in suspense as they continually try to figure how to make the scale tip more on the good side.

Everyone except oblivious old me of course. I liked the balance. I liked what I had, I never really wanted more. The machine can do what it wants, to me it didn't even exist. And this continued on for I can't remember how long.

Then I grew older. Somewhere along the way my veil got torn away, forcing me to open my eyes and look properly for the first time. I don't know if I like what I saw, or am still seeing.

On the one hand, I saw things that piqued my interest. Things that I thought I knew, but had much more in them to discover than I had initially thought. Songs held deeper meaning, I could relate to them better now. Those complex Chinese characters I always thought were alien compounds began to look like simple combinations of more familiar elements that I know.  Things that I used to regard as difficult turned out to be no big deal. These things made me smile at the naivety of the past me, the plain simplicity of the things that used to baffle me was unthinkable. Seeing these made me feel like I had come a long way, that I have grown and matured. I am different; I am the newest and latest version of myself, an evolved smartphone from the once contentedly indestructible Nokia 3310. It would have been nice if that was all I had seen.

On the other hand, there were things that frightened me, made me feel uncomfortable. Made me REGRET the day the veil was torn. Things I don't want to see. Feelings I don't want to associate with. Thoughts I DON'T NEED. People I should have never cared about. I saw the tensions in the weak strings of what I thought were strong ropes of human relationships. The frailness of the glass of trust that kept all the insecurity in it. The hollowness of hearts, the injustice of the just, the other side of the silver coin. Pandora's box. The mirror of truth. It was like a double-edged sword. Because I knew more, I could understand more. Because I understood more, I saw more of the truth. And sometimes, the truth will hurt. And it will hurt bad.

Now then, do we embrace it or deny its existence? The happiness you once knew came with an unknown price. Its like unknowingly having extra charges made to your credit card while you were on a bargain sale purchase. Everything feels awesome at first and then you realize you've been scammed, in fact you've lost more than you would have in a normal purchase.

But this is not a bargain sale. This is you and life.There is no turning back. You open that veil and you see the weighing balance. You find newfound happiness, you also experience immeasurable loneliness with its absence. You find the wonders of faith and trust, but not without a bitter taste of betrayal. You'll achieve great understanding of others, but you'll also have to live with the disappointment when you understand why they did what they did. The greatest triumphs come with tantamount losses as its prologue. Yin and yang. Black and white. Up and down.

You either take it all in or lock yourself in a sheltered world of glass. If you choose the latter, remember, all it takes is a flick of a finger and then it'll all shatter. And then you naturally get cut from the fragments.

Oh. So this is why I'm bleeding. Time to put on some band-aids myself. It's faster when you don't have to rely on anyone else, after all.

.:: Knock knock. ::.

So this is what they mean by "You'll never know when opportunity will come and knock on your door."

But should I open it?

Funny how the previous me would have jumped in glee, but the current me could really care less.

Maybe this time it will work out.

Maybe. But do I want it to?

knock knock.

Oh well, I suppose it won't hurt to give it a go. Fingers crossed. :)

.:: So here I am ::.

Get into uni, check.

Survive apocalypse, check.

Have a great year, check.

The trouble with writing a blog post while having anime mp3s playing in the background is the constant urge to name the post after one of the songs.

Just like that, 2o12 is over. Time to pay extra attention while writing down that last digit of the date on those papers because you know you're still bound to slip and write '12' instead of '13' one out of ten times. At least for the first month of the year.

This year--- my bad, last year, the water dragon somehow decided that I should tag along on its flight. Up and down, up and down, its curved body moves in the skies like a sine curve. Up and down, up and down, the patterns of my year was dictated, but not without exposure to new experiences, new insights, new places, new things. 

Fireworks, red lanterns, food, pictures, laughter, accompanied by butterflies-- giant moths nesting in my stomach as the New Year was ushered in. While everyone else was wishing each other a Happy Chinese New Year, my mind was busy refreshing a single page for A-Levels results. The relief seeing the 4A*s that were like a dream. Up.

Friends start parting to go their separate ways. Slightly down. Slightly because I'll see them again soon enough.

Choral speaking. Public speaking. Story-telling. Training children to do the things I used to do in school. The feeling of achievement when they win. The feeling of happiness when you receive a present on Teacher's Day. 

KWN Panasonic training. A shift in responsibilities, from participant to facilitator. It gave me insight on how much work really went on behind the scenes of the awesome workshops we have each year. Teamwork and coordination. Hard work and determination to put out the best. Being part of Malaysia's first video meet with Japan as a translator was an honor. Not to mention the launch of the Panasonic 3D video cameras. 

Filming our first documentary on turtles was difficult, but not without its rewards. Following turtle tracks, witnessing a turtle lay its eggs, counting the hundreds of ping-pong shaped eggs and burying them in a protected hatchery, witnessing the hatch-lings climb out of the deep hole their shells were buried in, was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. 

Learning to not fear interviewers. Seeing eye-to-eye with them as people who are looking for something in you. Learning a little more about hypocrisy, politics, scams and lies. Standing up for what's right and criticizing what's ridiculous, even if the planes are tilted and you're on the lower one. 

Melbourne. Accelerated Maths 2. MUOSS. Uni.

Decisions.

Uncertainty.

Fear.

Lack of confidence.

Results.

Sticking by choices.

Hanging on.

Believing.

Calmness.

Relief and joy.

Home, sweet home.

I admit, when I first reached Melbourne, part of me was rejecting it. Part of me wanted to bolt and go home. 

How high does the sycamore grow?

If you cut it down, you will never know.

And I wanted to know. And now I do. I'm glad that I did what I did. I like who I've become.

 

Thoughts.

So it's back to square one, but a fresher start than the last.

I've been kept seriously busy by all the things happening around me

these past few supposed-to-be-idyllic months.

So much to do, so much to think about.

When somebody asks me what I'm doing next,

I give them the standard answer.

"Waiting for UK intake in September,

applying for scholarships,

hoping for the best."

No one ever realizes the possible contradiction in the answer.

What exactly is the best that can happen?

Going to UK?

Well sure, I've gotten my unconditional offers

to all the universities I've applied for

and the scholarship application process is so far so good.

It helps that my A-Level results were exactly what I hoped for.

But is getting a scholarship and going overseas

'the best'?

I don't know.

The problem is, I don't know what I want.

I sort of want to do Actuarial Science,

I like the whole idea of doing something so deeply

entwined with calculations, but if asked to do engineering,

I don't think I can put up much arguments for a 'no'.

Although post-SPM me has discovered that

medicine and pharmacy were no longer in my list of okay,

my options are still pretty open.

I'm hesitant. I'm hesitant because,

when I leave for UK (and if I do),

yeah, there'll be a bundle of new opportunities

and discoveries and experiences.

But there'll be things I'll miss out on here, back at home.

I will miss weekends in Kuantan,

spending quality time squabbling with siblings,

watching movies with the rest and cooking with Grandma.

I will miss the scent of my room,

the little room I have lived in for the past how many years.

I will miss Fluffy. I will miss fried egg with onions.

I will miss rice. I will miss the simple fried maggi Mum 

whips up in the middle of the night to fill our empty stomachs.

I will miss waking up from nightmares and then jumping in between

Mum and Dad in their bed and feeling safe and  protected then.

I will miss Pinky, Li and Hui. I will miss Malaysian weather.

I will miss the routines I have been so used to

living for the past 20 years of my life.

I am secretly afraid. Secretly afraid that things will

somehow change. Change and disappear from my life.