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I believe less is more. I do not practise what I preach.
Usually, I employ British English because that’s what grammar taught me. However, American English has a way of seeping in sometimes. (So I may use “practice” for the verb form in addition to my usual “practise”; let’s just say I harbour AC/DC linguistic tendencies.) No, I do not think an extra “u” in words like “neighbour” qualifies as snottiness. I do envy the brevity though; I just can’t help adding it in. You may be surprised to know that I am not pedantic, just anal retentive. (Yes, there is a difference.)
Winters (when I happen to reside in a land with winters) are double-edged swords for me. I like the snow but not snow falling. (It gets in my eyes.) Train rides would be especially cool during winter, except when the train doesn’t come in at all because of excessive snowfall or a tree fallen on the tracks. I get SAD (seasonal affective disorder) during winter; fortunately, the company of friends and a warm beverage seems to be the solution.
I am largely apolitical but I do vote. Opinions matter, and we are making our choices, whether by action or abstinence. I believe most politicians didn’t start out that way. I believe most people are good; I just fail to like most of them. That doesn’t make them any less good. The fault lies with me: whether I choose to be sociable or reclusive, I make the decision not to like. My oldest buddy Wern says I lack a postive mental attitude. (He actually said it with a straight face, for which I give him much credit.) When I do make friends though, I am a friend for life; fiercely, dangerously, foolishly loyal. (It’s like falling in love.)
It’s not like falling in love. I’ve come to understand that romantic notions do not last. I would swear that the next time I fall in love, I would fall in love with the bad stuff first. That way I can’t break up saying, “You’re too good for me.” (I used that with my last girlfriend; looking back, I realise I did not mean it.) Breaking up is hard on me because I want it to be clean and swift; often that makes me brutal, which I suppose is what I am. Mostly to myself.
Being able to fall in and out of relationships with other people while still in love with the same person for the past five years should be a comfort; instead, I am reminded of who I truly wish to be with all the time; the only difference, it’s less painful when you are with somebody. (Nobody likes being alone.)
I do like being alone. I read about some guy trying to set a record by isolating himself from the outside world for a year with the internet as his only connection and I wonder what the big deal is. I have books, CDs and comics in my room. It’s hard to be bored wondering if Magneto will tear the adamantium out of Wolverine’s body while Thom Yorke is chanting “I’m a creep.” (It’s easy to get real depressed though.) It’s not about getting bored. Being alone is a choice, it’s solitude. It’s when I don’t have to think.
When I am in a crowd, it’s easy to be lonely. And that’s when I think the most. About stuff: good stuff, bad stuff. Mostly bad stuff. Everyone tells me I think too much. This is true. But when I am alone and do not think at all, it’s really avoidance. Either reality seems unacceptable by some standard I am only vaguely aware of. This much I am certain: I do not often allow myself to be happy.
I have a bachelor’s degree in telecommunications engineering. I have a master’s degree in business administration. Neither means much to me. I realise I did them for reasons such as “I was expected to” or “I could do it” or “it seemed an option at the time”, which, really, is alright, because I’ve been given so many opportunities in return. I would not have spent an entire year in Munich otherwise, or met such great people either. My life would have been different.
For all I have experienced, I have learned nothing. I repeat my actions, and mistakes recur. This pisses me off like nothing else does, but I do not do anything about it. Procrastination is my most frequent excuse. I know it’s fear really. I’m simply scared. If you do not dream, you cannot fall. If I lived to be a hundred years old, my long, safe life could not compare to fifteen minutes of Icarus’s flight. How beautiful, to be honestly free!The greatest freedom is to be able to talk till one is content, if that were possible. The world around us melts away when we banter and listen to each other’s thoughts and ideas; the hours mean nothing when there is so much to agree and disagree with — the recognition of a soulmate or nemesis could be ecstasy itself. I can be a drama queen sometimes.
Ich kann nicht so gut Deutsch sprechen. Why can’t I be satisfied with the four languages I already speak instead of being dismayed with my atrocious lack with others? An infant could swear better than me in Italian. (Provided the infant in question is Italian to begin with, of course.) It is enough if you try. People do appreciate your abysmal attempts, even if you’re practically assaulting their mother tongues.
I enjoy looking at beautiful people and being in beautiful places. I’ve finally accepted this as natural and resigned myself to not feeling too shallow or guilty. I bear terrible grudges. I don’t write letters often, real ones, but when I do, they are invariably long and composed during even longer train rides. Sometimes they are just an excuse for me to flirt with a pretty barrista who recommends bad coffee and reminds me that refills are free. I can only remember sending one postcard ever; I was in Dublin and having a miserable time, so I sent one to Sarah grumbling about the rain. (It must be a disability of mine, not sending postcards when travelling.)
I don’t look towards the sky enough, particularly at night; I miss the stars twinkling. I don’t smile as often as I can or should. I am pretty sure I will develop some strain of abdominal cancer. I do not smoke unless I am really happy or if you are. Chianti drunk in Tuscany is heaven. One day I will travel to Tibet. (I’ve already missed one opportunity.) It will be the closest thing to a pilgrimage for me. Afterwards, I will get a tattoo, as permanent a reminder as possible that this life will go; all is impermanence.They don’t make cartoons like they used to in the 80’s. Nothing good lasts. Happiness is just a brief moment of pure bliss; to expect more, to expect a lifetime of it, is to court misery.
I don’t remember much, but when I do, the memories haunt me. They are always there, one or two hovering closely, and when I least expect it, I succumb to the past — what was and what might have been. Wearing Doc Marts and white jeans (they were beige, I swear!), debating and clubbing in Melbourne, having Justin over and then him bunking with me permanently. We were going to build our own business and earn millions! Yeah… I have spent too much of my time on other people’s dreams, sweet as they were at the time. They still are, actually. I should only remember the good times.
I want to believe that my fucking around with my life since I was sixteen is a necessary step to get where I want to be. I really hope so, because I am still fucking around with my life. And I still don’t know what I want. It scares me that I know people who have very clear ideas about what they want. They do not claim to be wiser or luckier, but they seem happier to me. At least they have direction. I don’t even have a script.
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~ * ~
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So here’s my script. For now. (Now is all I’ve got anyway.) I will write. I will write badly, sure, and about things that do not matter. I have to learn these things, structure and style and all that stuff writers know by heart. The hard way, the only way. I cannot learn flair or imagination or a real sense of humour. I shan’t force myself. I will make do with what I have. One day, when I am able to write, when I have all the essential skills, I may find that I have something to say, and finally, the words to write it down with.
woww.…! i cudn have written THT much bout myself..or cud i? never really given it much thought. a good read..definitely..;o)
No, the way you should look at it is simply this — you shouldn’t ever write that much about yourself — it ain’t sane, hahah.
hahahahha.….but it’s amazing how well u know urself. i definitely can’t describe ‘me’ like how u did. so tht makes me sane huh? =P
Yes, it does. Hahahaha…
thank God! hahaha.…=P
Yes, but now the question is: What’s a sane person like you talking to a not-so-sane person like moi?
ahhh.…but haven’t you heard of the phrase “opposites attract”? :p
Yes I have, and the principle has been applied successfully on me in the past…
so this principle will apply nicely on us, no? ;o)
If I answered that, your cousin Benny will just have SO much more to say, wouldn’t he?
i don’t know, will he find his way here? lolzz.. it took me a while to stumbled upon this page…;o)
It’s only two clicks away from the main page. Click my bio BEING ME, then this. From the blog stats, a lot of people read this page actually, even though they don’t comment.
This is probably how You-Know-Who found out about me living in Germany before…
Also, before your first comment here, I’ve already deleted six spam comments. Maybe it all began here.
owhh…okiee..yeah, safer for u not to answer then. ;o) hmm…why wud I-Know-Who spam this page when no one really leaves comments here.. but so far so good here, after my 1st comment?
Goodness knows why. It was weird stuff like “aaa”, “bbb”, “ccc”, like he was testing it out. I guess he’s just trying to see if anyone checks. He obviously picked on the wrong blog — I am super anal-retentive/obsessive-compulsive on checking my comments!
hahaha…checking it out here then go flood ur other posts..smart also..but sadly in a bad way… sighh..=/ nvm la..like u said..life’s too short to worry so much bout petty stuffs like this. =D
Exactly!
i can never describe myself with so many words. maybe i don’t really understand who i really am as much as you do understand of yourself.
Wee Sing,
Heya! Are you the Tan Wee Sing I knew from High School? If yes, haven’t seen you in ages, bro! If no, still cool. Welcome to my blog!
Hi Kenny,
Yes, you got it right man. I am the one that you knew from High School. Have not seen you for ages too. Time flies huh? And we are already 28 going to 30 already. nyek nyek nyek. A cool blog you have here. I had just downloaded your book broken mornings. It is really cool to have written a book man. keep it up bro.
Wee Sing my man!
I am so glad I started this blog… it has come in real handy to get in touch with long-lost pals. Just the other day another friend called me out of the blue. Five years that one.
With you, it must be even longer. Still. Good times. I have emailed you my contact details so we can keep in touch.
And don’t remind me about turning 30… LOL
Hi there, so nice to have finally caught up with you after so many years…I knew you loved to write…which was also why I knew you’d blog. Haha…will try to read your book when I have the time…but glad you are doing what you like and liking what you do…
Dear Siew Wui,
Yes… what serendipity for us to have come across each other again after years. Glad to hear you’re a full-fledged dentist now. Can fix my horrid teeth then, haha…
As for reading my book, be careful when you turn the pages…
[…] almost can’t remember who I was. Almost. Days can still be trying. And I still try too hard sometimes. That’s when I find […]
Kenny,
I tried downloading your book once but failed. I will try again.
I got it! It was so simple, I don’t think it required downloading at all since I am using wordpress. I will start reading…
mrshbt
You got it? Great… I was about to email it to you but was a tad busy this morning. Warning though: Most of the stories in there were written years ago when I was more cynical and melancholic… may be a bit explicit in parts and contains, uhm, “language”, if you know what I mean…
Still, it’s a good record of who I used to be…
Have fun reading it, dear!
Wow. You impressed me. =)
i have the attention span of a goldfish most of the time, and ‘long’ posts like this usually leave me slightly drained, but instead of pausing every few minutes, i actually read from the start till the end w/o any interjections.
i like your style of writing. a lot. it’s not normal for me to be paying attention for too long (i suspect i have mild ADHD, but then again i’m probably a hypochondriac, lol).
this post reminds me of ‘a million little pieces’. but that novel’s far more disturbing and unstable.
“If you do not dream, you cannot fall.“
this somewhat reminds me of one of my life mottos : “hope for the best but expect the worst”. after all our efforts on whatever, the only thing we can do then is to pray that everything will turn out fine, but don’t bet your last dollar things will turn out that way tho.
=)
gah. sorry for my blahblahblahs. heheh =)
Cindy C
Me? Who, me? Really? I mean, really?
Zaty
I haven’t read this in years, actually. I’m wondering how much of this is still true for me, and if so, how scary that might be, or how comforting.
I will share something with you — I am still scared, but I will dream even if I fall (and I have fallen O so many times) for a life without dreaming, without dreams, ain’t much of a life at all.
May your life be filled with dreams and dreaming and their fruition. *hugs*
P.S. What blahblahblahs? Have you seen how much I write?
Hi Kenny!
Greeting’s from North Borneo!
Hey no wonder I thought your name looks familiar! I saw your name a couple of times at Yuri’s blog. But I never bother to click your link until I saw your name again at alilfatmonkey’s link. Maybe curiousity just strucked my mind to know who you are. Heehe.
I think know you’re a writer.
Your writing is so amazingly beautiful! You have inspired me to write even more. I should have found your blog long time ago.
By the way, can you email me all of your stories for me? I had a problem donwloading it.
Keep up the good work!
Cheers.
With Warm Regards
Eudora
Welcome to ‘Life for Beginners’! Thank you for your kind comments — it makes my day each time a new reader discovers my writings.
Will email you the e-books shortly (in three separate emails). There seems to be trouble downloading for some people, so anyone else out there who can’t download, just leave a comment here and I will send it your way!
Thanks for the stories Kenny!
Feel free to drop by my blog when you have the time. Have a great day ahead!
Eudora
No problemo, dear — it was my pleasure.
*hops, skips, dances over to eudora’s blog*
“Procrastination is my most frequent excuse. I know its fear really. I’m simply scared. If you do not dream, you cannot fall. If I lived to be a hundred years old, my long, safe life could not compare to fifteen minutes of Icarus’s flight. How beautiful, to be honestly free!”
That is just what I needed to read, at just the right moment. Thank you so much for your honesty about your life.
On another note, I really like how you captured your own contrasts, right from your opening line. I think too many people try to simplify themselves into something easily comprehensible so they can present themselves as a nice, yet not-quite-complete package for someone else to open. Kudos for refusing to do so yourself. It makes reading about you all the more interesting! Thanks again~*
Katie
“I think too many people try to simplify themselves into something easily comprehensible so they can present themselves as a nice, yet not-quite-complete package for someone else to open.”
You’ve put it beautifully. I think we try too hard sometimes to conform to a perceived safe stereotype. Why not be ourselves instead? For no one else will be that person anyway, and if we don’t, it’d be a mighty pity, for I think the person we truly are is the most beautiful thing indeed.