It's nearly 1am and on a normal day nowadays, I'm fast asleep. 

Been a while since I've had time to myself like this. 

Life can just throw things down your throat and before you know it, you don't even realise that you have not had time to come up for air. Big decisions, weighing priorities, making sacrifices - it's all part of growing up, isn't it? 

I was recently at a training program, and it was two hours away from the city. On the drive back, we were all exhausted and to keep myself awake, I tried to pay attention to the radio - they were discussing urban development and the rising property prices. To my surprise, it kept me wide awake and it was actually - gasp - interesting! I thought to myself - a year ago, I would be so overwhelmed by these big and 'boring' topics that I would retreat back to my comfortable shell. How things have changed. 

One can never be too comfortable can they? Pfft. I don't think I have ever been given much chance to even BE too comfortable. Never in the same place for more than a couple of years, with varying - but always present - levels of reluctance each time. Call me a wimp but I still long to either be back in my hometown for good or if I really have to leave again, at least it's something I want and with the person I want to be with. 

Ah, such a typical self-entitled, unrealistically idealistic Gen-Y young adult. Screw that. In this day and age, opportunities don't just come knocking, most of them are lying around, waiting to be discovered. If I'm going to give less than my best, I might as well not go for it. We live in a generation of creators. Accessible information. Rapid innovation. There is so much that can be done within these areas. It's just a matter of breaking through, isn't it? 

home again

There is a strange calm that comes over me as soon as I step off the plane, back home. My mind clears up almost immediately and its as if I just left every burden in the overhead compartment above my window seat. 

It might be that the hustle and bustle of city life has taken a toll on me, and the slower pace here brings the calm I so desperately seek. It might be the new found appreciation for fresh air, sunlight on my face in the morning, a fat cat that purrs around you - always welcoming despite the months of absence, all the fond memories of a time with less worries. 

It's a rainy day again today in good 'ol Kuching town. Today's Chinese New Year eve. 

The flight I was on was filled with people coming home for the holidays. Some were obviously excited, some were obviously dragging their feet, haha. 

I met a familiar face at the airport, someone I'd like to think of as a little sister. She let out a little shriek of excitement, "you're back!". That was about to be the start of many mini reunions, I knew it. This time of the year has always been about meeting up and catching up. Christmas was always more for family, Chinese New Year for me was always more about friends. Probably cause I'm not Chinese. Haha. 

This year is gonna be different, though. 

Despite being together for more than two years now, because of the distance, I've never been home to celebrate Chinese New Year with my better half. I am kinda nervous, mostly with the fact that I'll be with his family, although not for the major family-only events. It's not my time yet, haha. I am also excited because, hey, I'll be with him, what's there to complain about? :) 

Ah, I just noticed there is no structure to this post at all. I just wanted to do a little update, I guess.  

Now I'm going to finish off my coffee, edit more photos, and get ready for lunch with my love :) Oh how I wish I had more days like these. 

The drastic change from the warmth of Christmas spent at home and then the solitude of being back in this big, cold city - I sometimes forget how distressing it can be. 

Daniela Andrade and pretty blogs keep me company while I try to gain some composure.  

Woke up utterly exhausted, in a feverish daze early this morning and called up sick.

Spent the rest of the day pretty much taking it easy (as tempted as I was to head out and get all errands done) and restricting work to anything that can be done on the laptop.

To keep me company were some Christmas carols and oh how I wish I could just be home right now. Last year's Christmas was probably the best I've had, family, friends, my love, a lot of church activities, carolling, presents, a full out dinner. I'm craving for that again.

Or just him to curl up with and watch Love Actually for the gazillionth time. Ugh. Send me home now please.

November

Currently hooked to Drake's "Hold On We're Going Home". No special reason, might have been that Ian Eastwood video, the Michael Jackson-esque beats and the lack of profanity in the lyrics.

Give it a listen :)

My one week getaway was the breath of fresh air I needed. Or a combination of many, many factors. 

I've somehow managed to overcome work fatigue. You could call it coming to terms with the situation, but keeping my eyes on the goals I want, and how I want to get there. 

If there is one thing I have learnt, it's that when it comes to the make-or-break decisions, the most important person to consult is myself. If I doubt myself, why would someone else be convinced?

I don't know about you, but too often I've made decisions for others. How would my parents react? What would my friends say? Will my boyfriend be okay with it? What can I offer my employer? How can I serve God better?

And as soon as I slip up, I beat myself up so badly, I end up wallowing in self pity, take forever to move on and find myself back where I started. I am my worst critic. 

This year has been the most times I've been asked, "What do you want?"

Sometimes, in frustration. Sometimes, with genuine concern. Sometimes out of plain curiosity. 

I used to think, "Does it really matter?" but after being asked so many times, I guess I really do come off as a lost child just lapping up whatever comes her way, eager to please, hoping for a break.

I've been supporting my boyfriend at his marathons, these past few months. And in those hours waiting for him to run past the finish line, whilst battling extreme anxiety and worry, I think a lot about what he is going through, about how people often compare marathons to life itself. 

All our formative years as a child, a teen, a young adult, we have been "in training". Some people start their race early, some start a little later. Either way, the road is the same, the challenges, for the most part, are the same. 

I've witnessed and learnt that despite the exhaustion and pain, it's possible with pure persistence and sheer will. Your bodies might probably crumble at a tiny nudge but that one important factor keeping it all together is the right state of mind, the right focus. 

Every time I greet my boyfriend past the finish line, part of me is in panic, hoping he will not collapse, another part of me is just swelling with pride at his achievement. At this point, he is at his weakest, physically. 

But his face lights up as soon as he lays eyes on me and he hobbles forward to give me a kiss, "I didn't want you to wait too long, so I wanted to finish the best I can." Really? After all that? I would have said "I just want to go home now." But no, that's usually the first thing he says to me. 

It often makes me think, when I am going through a difficult time, and the finish line seems like a long way off, how often do I keep my eyes forward and remind myself of what is waiting for me at the end? How strong is that determination to push me through? What is it that is at the end, actually? 

That is when I realize that everyone was asking the right question all along. What is it that I want? 

Do I know it? 

Good. 

Now chase it. 

:)

I am back in my hometown and it's a perfect day to be safe and cosy at home. It's raining out, I'm in my room, surrounded by remnants of my teenage years and my childhood, The American Dollar is playing, a soft glow of sunlight fills the room and it just feels perfect to be writing.

There are days after work in KL that I just feel so tensed up inside, there's an uneasiness that no amount of phone calls, prayer, writing, walking or sleeping can shake off. It comes and goes but it's almost always there, like a bad conscience.

Arriving in the airport at an ungodly hour is remedied with sweet messages from him and a warm tight hug from my parents. Laughter and chatter all the way home.

It's always, always good to be back.

Looking around and saying, "Yes. This is it. This is comfort. This is home."

'It hasn't been what I hoped for'

It has been a while since a single song spoke straight to the heart, to my vulnerability. Straight past the silent, vacant exterior I've come to adopt.

A friend posted up recently, mentioning how the time after graduation needs some serious soul-searching. No more exams to work for, nothing to hide behind in times of doubt. Who are you? Who do you want to become? Are you really willing to give everything you have to get there?

For me, it means summoning up the courage to take a huge leap of faith, swallowing bitter truths, face obstacles head on and keeping my chin up, no matter what.

For me, it means always holding on to what I already have, so I won't be drowning in what I don't.

'Do you need something more than this?'

not much longer. coming up for air before diving deeper in.

a short escape from this tangled web. getting lost in unknown streets, a different language, a new landscape, and hopefully, a refreshed perspective. much of me is a bit nervous. trying not to think of what I have to come back to, but come back stronger, I will. I have to.

I want an ukulele. 

Okay, that's it. A part of me definitely needs some help.

I can't even stitch together a simple video and it's been half baked for ages. Even the actual footage was sloppy and that seldom comes from me if I'm the one behind the camera :( It's very frustrating. It's one of those things that usually comes naturally to me. Not anymore.

I woke up early Saturday morning for that precious 'me' time. I had toast, coffee, music and my notebook. My usual set up. But instead of busy scribbling my heart out, I just ended up sitting on the floor of my apartment balcony with an open notebook with only two lines written and I couldn't squeeze out anything more. I just couldn't.

All these emotions in me were jammed shut inside. My usual mediums of expression - words, photos, videos, music, all were stuck. Just tears.

I looked out to the dawn skyline, breathed in the cool morning air, tried to dismiss the sound of early morning traffic, closed my eyes ... And felt so out of place.

For the first time in a long time, I couldn't write. All that came to me was an overwhelming emptiness. Trying not to let memories of better times keep me in the past.

I wish I could just stop everything and start over anew.

I also wish it was that easy.

Never thought I could ever feel this lost. 

BDC

You know what? It's pretty horrible, being on a plane and feeling like I'm being torn away from something that is such a big part of me. Sigh.

Being away from home for most of the past five, six years, coming home meant different things at different times. Most of the time it was just a good holiday; I wanted to have fun; I wanted to go to the beach; I wanted to meet my friends.

Sometimes it meant having to deal with issues I wish I could just avoid. A family argument; a cold war between friends; a painful break up.

It also usually depends on what home meant, relative to my "current location" (wherever that was). In college, it was an escape from the cold, busy lifestyle of a city I never got used to. In university, it was a much needed reality check to remind me of the things that really mattered - keeping me grounded. Or else I'd be having the time of my life, forgetting myself and those that helped me get to where I am.

Over time, my reasons for coming home have evolved. Somehow.

There is a degree of freedom that comes with earning an income. I decide my holidays and I decide what I want to do with them. And I still choose to come home.

There was an amazing, indescribable calm that set in as soon as I touched down at home ground. To be surrounded by familiar faces, familiar places, there's this sense of peace and joy I can't quite describe :) it just felt like... Christmas. Haha. Yes, I don't have any other words for it.

It's a feeling of intense gratitude and relief, knowing that this is it - this is where I belong. Have you ever felt that before?

It's like being with someone you're totally comfortable with.

Your laughter rolls out at the simplest things, your smile is at home on a radiant face, your chatter is endless about everything under the sun, you're never self conscious about what you're wearing because "those that matter don't care and those that care don't matter", falling asleep is easy, soft light flows through the window panes in a room you've lovingly decorated as a teen and still love today, a cool morning breeze blows in as you hear the home slowly rise up and your parents are making breakfast downstairs, you can sit and watch your silly cat be lazy all day, you love the shops you've frequent for as long as you can remember, your friends' faces light up when they meet up with you, oh and the warm and abundant hugs you get for hello and goodbye and any reason in between, just because.

If I could choose what I want my heaven to be like, it'll be just that.

Yes, I'd like that very much, please.

Not just a house, but a home.

I miss the cold, early morning light that filters through our living room blinds in my Glasgow apartment. That peeks from that one huge window in my little room. Twinkling on the carpeted floor right under my writing desk, growing gently to a bright ray bouncing off my door, coaxing me out of bed.

Cozy in the many layers of duvets and warm throws, a good mug of freshly brewed coffee, music drifting from my ancient laptop, staring at nothing in particular, thinking about nothing in particular, just being... There. Those precious private moments to myself, before being subjected to the demands of everyday life. 

I miss that little bit of peace and serenity I had, having a sanctuary, a safe area I will always be happy to come home to.

God, I know that letting it go was inevitable but.. Somewhere, sometime, can I have that again? 

Hopes are crushed. It hurts. We cry.

I weep because I took one step closer to my dream,
but now I've been swept away, back to where I started.

You weep because I took one step away from your dream,
but now you pulled me back and chained me to yours.

Wait, why are you weeping again?
You got what you want.
So, stop.

“Why do you worry in your difficulties? Be strong in me; look to your God in your most troubled hour, and you will be triumphant.”

I feel like another round of cafe therapy. It’s a bit awkward for me now that it’s the fasting month for the Muslims. I was once in KL, a few years back, for a short trip and it happened to be the fasting month. I was starving by the time the plane touched down, so as soon as I could, I went to the nearest fast food outlet and bought a meal to go. As I sat and ate, while waiting for a cab, I noticed people staring - no, not just those that were fasting. A young Chinese boy, pointed and me and asked, “Pa, why is she eating?”

Oh dear Lord. They all think I’m Malay. What was I thinking, eating publicly like that?!

Now, I’m working where there is a Muslim majority. It just occurred to me that I’ve never been in this position before.  I went to a Catholic school, then a private College and then I was whisked overseas. Back home in Kuching, people don’t bat an eyelid because they can tell that I’m a Dayak - can’t say the same for the communities in the Peninsular. I’m often treated like a novelty item when they realise my identity.

Oh well. Gotta live with it.

In other news,

I’m working out a plan for something I’ve always wanted to do.

It is quite scary, taking the plunge like this.

So many questions, running around.

Here we go. 

of sacrifice

I was having a quick catch up with a close friend recently.

We were talking about our personal commitments, our dreams, our sacrifices, our regrets. About how things have changed so much from when we were fresh out of university. It’s been a year? Those days felt like a dream.  

While we were studying, often times when shit happens, we feel like we’re forced to grow up too fast. We feel proud of our little achievements, that we have in fact, experienced life; that we’re not the naive graduates that we’re made out to be.

But everyone has different experiences. Mine’s probably not the same as yours. Your definition of “meeting different types of people” is probably not the same as mine. So we continue learning.

Here I am now, having to grasp aspects of life that I never gave much thought to in the past. When did I start casually discussing investment and saving plans again? Annual leaves and weekends are precious, the same way that every cent counts towards financial goals. It was a bit scary, noticing the change.

For all our “if-only” wishes, I mentioned to my friend, if anything, sacrifices and bad decisions have helped me realize what I really want to do with my life, and what matters. It gets you thinking.

It reaches a point where I realize that when you really set your eyes on your ultimate goal, sacrifices aren't so much of a burden anymore. That compromise is necessary. It’s inevitable towards success.

The crucial question is, “What is it that you want? Are you very sure? How much do you really want it?”

Because if it’s something that you really want, those sacrifices shouldn't hurt as much – you know that the satisfaction at the end of the day is worth much more than the sleepless nights, the ultra tight budget and the drastic lifestyle changes. One day you won’t even realize that you have been sacrificing that all along.

Of course, sacrifice isn't necessarily permanent. One has to live a balanced life. But that is another story in itself.

Your sacrifices are a reflection of your priorities. And your priorities are what make you the person that you are.

So, how much do you really want it?

What will you sacrifice? 

Priorities.

If there's one thing I've learnt, when life gets overwhelming, putting priorities in its rightful place, really helps.

Notice that I said rightful place. This could hurt, this might require sacrifice, this could mean going through varying levels of hardship, but it has to be done.

It's not something I'm very good at. But there are things bigger than my petty wants and needs. Things bigger than a fat paycheck and getting too comfortable with worldly satisfaction.

What are your priorities? What risks would you take?

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I was supposed to meet up with my friends tonight. Probably the first time I've been out at night on a weekday this far from my apartment. 

I was wandering about the mall cause I was early. I used that half an hour to check out a shop selling used goods. Something that became second nature to me after being abroad. 

A children's glockenspiel. Ukuleles of different sizes and colors. Relatively modern record players. Vinyls in perfect condition. Billie Holiday. Red Hot Chili Peppers. Elvis Presley. Radiohead. 

These little things made me smile and a sharp pang of longing filled me.

Running my fingers over these little symbols of my dreams, I remind myself to be patient and persevere. 

The day will come when I do not have to live a make-believe life.

good morning

"Good morning!" said Bilbo, and he meant it. The sun was shining, and the grass was very green. But Gandalf looked at him from under very long bushy eyebrows that stuck out further than the brim of his shady hat.

"What do you mean?" he said. "Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?"

- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit

I think 'good morning' today means that it is good to have a morning like this. Looking out to busy streets at a window seat, safe and tucked cosily indoors with friendly chatter, the whistling of espresso machines, the smell of coffee, music in the background, sealed from the noise and traffic outside.

A retreat from the chaos outside, I can finally breathe after holding my breath for months. Holding my breath, because it keeps in growing frustrations, a longing for a 180 degree turn from everything I have to endure for now, hunting for opportunities every day, to escape. Arranging strategies in my mind, taking mental notes of how I can get what I want, without having to hurt anyone who only has good intentions for me. Also, holding my breath because the streets and corners of LRT stations stink of piss, sweat and exhaust fumes.

Some people learn to settle for what they can. They find something about it they will enjoy, find a goal they're content to chase, find a higher reason in the muddled mess they got themselves into. And I have respect for that. But how long are you willing to just settle? You win some, you lose some. How long will you give in to personal loss in exchange for a 'win' that is mass approved. Approved by everyone except the very person who won it. Because deep inside you feel nothing, wondering what the fuss is all about.

How do you live, constantly looking over your shoulder? Knowing that the path you're currently on could possibly lead you further and further away from the life you want? That the 'success' that society dictates isn't fulfilling at all, it's all a lie, a product of hand-me-down mentalities that might have worked, once upon a time, but not today.

It was a time where fierce determination was enough to propel individuals up the ladder, regardless of the means to there. Anything, to get out of what they were in. It could have been poverty, bullying, abuse, violence, alcohol, drugs. All to obtain a sense of achievement, to be someone.

I followed the popular opinion of what 'everyone' said you should do to be considered successful. Blessed with a decent brain and great upbringing, I did very well in school, both academic and extra-curricular activities, was awarded a scholarship, studied overseas, graduated with a degree in a highly specialized course, working in an industry known for generating big bucks, earning a steady income in a huge corporation.

Why is it that all I want is to go home? That when they talk about 'passion for your job', I feel a sense of regret and sadness, knowing that I will have to put up a front again. Wondering how long I can fool everyone, knowing that so few have really ever taken my real passions seriously. That to them, I am throwing away my life, my future.

Well, excuse you, I believe I am on the path to that already. I need to get off.

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This should be the start of the 'bright future' everyone was talking about when I was still in school. 

Times have changed. I have changed. I have grown. 

Have you hit rock bottom? You would know then, that the only way out is getting back up. 

Have you messed up so bad, you ask yourself, "what the hell was I thinking?" You would know then, that the the only way out is to fix your mess. 

So simple. So easily forgotten in times of tears and turmoil. 

Here I am, another new room, more new faces, another new chapter, more new streets. 

Here I am, fixing my mess. 

Let's get to work.