Murky Clarity

It's all right not to be all right

It's all right
not to be fine
to drown in sorrow
without a lifeline.
Grieve, mourn, be sad
you are entitled to them
as much as you are
to joy and triumph

 

It's all right
to make a fool of yourself
laugh at your own silliness
be the joke where you're the star.
But never, not even once
let others take advantage
and make you a fool.

 

It's all right
to be lost within your mind
or far away from it, for that matter.
After all
aren't we all
a little lost sometimes?

 

It's all right
to hold on
to memories when they're all
that you have left.
Let go
only when you're ready
even then, let them be
your strength

 

It's all right
to feel small and insignificant
So long as you know
that you are loved
that you matter
just love yourself.

 

It's all right
Not to be
all right.

Birthday resolution

I'll be turning 30 this year, something I cannot change regardless how hard I look the other way. October 20 is still well beyond the horizon, and a lot can happen between now and then. Maybe things will remain more or less the same, maybe the world will end, maybe Yellowstone Caldera will erupt and blanket the world in ash. Either way, I can't stand still and do nothing.

I think I've mentioned before that one of my biggest life-dreams was to be a published author before I hit 30. Well, I have published almost 20 stories to date, and each time brings a sense of accomplishment. I hope I'll keep producing and publishing stories for more years to come.

I know I shouldn't be making any resolutions, what with my commitment as a Master's Degree candidate (yeah right), but I feel like I should accomplish something bigger. So here's what I plan to do:

 

I want to finish a novel, complete and polished for publication,
before October 20, 2011.

 

You may have noticed I used the word 'finish' instead of 'write'. I have at least 3 novel works-in-progress, but I always chicken out before I reach 20k words. I need at least 60k words for a complete novel, preferably more.

Pray for me. Help me achieve this. It'll be an awesome birthday gift from everyone.

One weekend ago, a lifetime away

 

I am restless. I am athirst for faraway things.

My soul goes out in a longing to touch the skirt of the dim distance.

O Great Beyond, O the keen call of thy flute!

I forget, I ever forget

That I have no wings to fly,

That I am bound in this spot evermore.

- Rabindranath Tagore, The Gardener (1915)

 

Last weekend, I (finally) sat down and assembled this prized possession of mine: Zero Wing Custom Gundam, perfect grade. Reza gave it to me two years ago as a birthday gift. Or was it three? We gave each other birthday gifts every year since we first became friends. I guess the tradition stops this year, but I'm not going to dwell on that.

So what took me so long to assemble the model? For years I'd always wanted it, but buying this particular model was...hmm...I guess I can afford the price (ranges from RM480 to RM550), but buying something for myself is not as special as receiving it from people I care about. Sorta like the plasma globe that Faiz had been promising to get me for over 10 years. I ended up buying it myself, but it felt absolutely blah.

I like Gundam just as much as I like Macross, Rahxephon, Evangelion and other mecha-based animes. That's to say I'm not a die-hard fan.

But I'm a sucker for wings.

I have this obsession with winged creatures, more so when they're mythical, such as angels, chimeras, dragons, fairies, Pegasus and others. If you browse through my collection of drawings and sketches over the years, since I was old enough to draw, you'd find wings. There's a psychological significance to it somewhere, and my best guess is that I've always longed to escape far, far away. That's why I love reading Fantasy. For the time I read those novels, I get to live lives not my own.

Anyway. Reza bought me this ridiculously expensive gift, and I wanted things to be perfect. I thought about airbrushing the pieces, make them look more real. I planned a lot of things, but like most things I plan, I didn't follow it through. So the box sat in my wardrobe, collecting dust.

And then the unthinkable happened: I lost my best friend, one of the few people I counted on to be as close as my siblings, fifty years from now. For two months I tried patching things up, but when love turns to hatred, I guess there's no repairing the damage. So I decided I needed a closure. I needed something to remind me of the best times because even though things turned sour on both sides, he was still my best friend. Nothing will dull that.

So my last trip home, I almost tore my room down looking for the box. Someone stored it on the topmost-shelf, apparently. Big drama. I brought back to Kelantan this big-ass box, which I had to hand-carry because I couldn't fit into the luggage. Mama packed it in a Universal Studios Singapore bag (with half the box jutting out). And last weekend I opened the box and assembled the model. Just like that.

This was what the box looked like, unopened.

 

The parts were organized in A LOT of frames, called trees, and each tree had its own alphabetical designation.

 

This was what the model was supposed to look like when assembled. The parts were airbrushed to add shade and depth. I wanted to achieve this, but we don't always get what we want.

Yes. The manual is in JAPANESE, and I don't understand a single word of it. Luckily, the parts were given Roman alphabets and numberings, and the illustrations were highly accurate and informative. At least I could read those.

I took this picture after taking out most of the trees out of the box. I should have taken a picture during assembly. Way, way messier. The cutter I borrowed from Ayis, who's also an action-figure junkie. When I discovered screws were involved, I had to stop and drive all the way to Tesco. It was 17:30, on a weekend (Friday). Horrible time to drive out in KB. But since I had some groceries to buy, I figured why the hell not.

 

This is the right upper limb, assembled. Note the details, and the fingers. Jointed fingers, movable like a real person's. Putting together this one limb alone took me over an hour.

 

Both upper limbs. I just love the fingers! Models of lesser grades (master grade and below) don't have jointed fingers, and most of the time they're just one piece cut to look like four distinct fingers. I could have folded the fingers and just extend the middle ones, but I'm not THAT vulgar.

I actually took this one to show the extent of detailing in the model, and to make it more impressive, you don't get to see this part in the end-product. These inner parts stay hidden under the outer shell. But still They designed the parts with loving care. Note the chrome bit and the spring. They're real, made out of metal. I kid you not. Somehow I love this shot.

As you can tell, this is the lower limb, partially done. Looks like a real robotic part, doesn't it?

I shot this to compare both lower limbs, one done. I mentioned earlier that the inner details ended up hidden underneath the outer shell, right? Isn't it awesome or what?

More parts with actual metal. This is the pelvic region. Again, despite the level of detail, none of these would show in the end product.

The head and torso. Notice the small white figure beneath the neck? That's the pilot, just to show how big-ass the mecha really is, if it exists in real life. Oh yeah, the green circular thingy? There's an LED bulb behind it, connected to wires, connected to a pair of batteries, and will light up when turned on. Yes, I had to do some wiring as well. Didn't know I had it in me.

This is the completed model, but without the wings. Doesn't he just look. Freaking. Awesome?!

Okay, so this chrome photo-finish seems out of place. I made it my Facebook profile picture. Because I can.

And this, boys and girls, is the finished model. Notice the wingspan. Notice the bendable wing tips. Notice the two lightsabers he's wielding. This model stands on the TV shelf, almost as tall as the 29-inch TV. His wings are heavy and make posing a challenge, and I have to look for a proper stand if I want to pose him in flight, but just LOOK AT THOSE WINGS!

 

So. I spent a whole weekend assembling this model, and in a few years my back will pay for it from the longs hours sitting on the floor bent forward like Gollum. Reza used to pester me to assemble this Gundam so he could admire it, but I guess that will never happen. But I don't think it matters anymore. Every time I enter the apartment, this Gundam is what I see first, and I'll always smile and think the good things. Only the good things.

And as closures go, it's a damn good one.

Left with left, right with right

 

They walked side by side

His steps slowing

To match hers

Her steps quickening

To match his

But they didn't realize

Their feet moved together

Left with left

Right with right.

 

Hands brushed against each other

Front, back, front, back

He took her hand in his

Held her tight

She missed a step

but did not pull away

Her heart raced

Her feet, too

Before long

Left with left

Right with right.

 

Then he stopped.

Then he turned.

Then he looked at her,

his eyes silent, smiling.

She looked at him

And saw the universe.

Her universe.

The world, the moon, the sun, the stars.

Everything.

 

Then he kissed her.

Lips against trembling lips

Breath mixing with warm breath

But it was not just her first kiss he stole.

It was her heart, her soul, her universe.

Everything.

When the trail leads you to a nettles patch

"A couple of years ago, I was up there, and I decided to go for a walk in the woods by myself. Stupid, I know, but I was fourteen, so what can you do? Anyway, the trail was really faint, but I kept walking all afternoon. Finally, I decided to turn around, but almost immediately I came to this fork in the trail. I didn't remember any fork in the trail, so I started to panic. Which was the way home? I didn't know. The two paths looked exactly the same."

"So what did you do?" I said.

"Well, I knew that buried somewhere in my head was the right answer. And if it wasn't, maybe there was some force outside myself--God or the spirit of the forest or whatever--who could give me the answer. So I cleared my head and stared at the two trails. I stood there for the longest time. And finally I knew. I went down the trail on the right."

"And you picked the right one."

"Nah," Gunnar said, "I picked wrong. I ended up in this nettles patch, and that was the time I got those ticks, and then later I got sick, and I was sure I had Lyme disease."

"Gunnar!" I cried. "What kind of story is that! You picked the wrong trail?"

"Did I?" Gunnar said. "I'm standing here, aren't I?"

I stared at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, obviously I made it back to the cabins. I lived, right?"

"Yeah, but you walked through nettles and ticks, and you thought you had Lyme disease! If you'd gone the other way, none of that would have happened."

"Oh, yeah, the other path would have been a much better choice. But at least I picked one. Because if I hadn't, I'd still be standing up in those woods."

-Brent Hartinger, Split Screen

 

I asked the author's permission to quote directly from his book because paraphrasing this passage would dull its impact. Split Screen is the second sequel of Geography Club, which I thoroughly loved. A definite must-read. Seriously.

 

In life, we always want to make the best choices, right choices. More often than not, though, we opt for the easy ones, even though they are not necessarily the best. Sometimes we make hard choices that affect people around us. Sometimes the choices we make alter us forever, no turning back. Sometimes choices are made unto us.

We may not realize it, but we face choices all the time. We decide whether we want to wake up in the morning, hit the snooze button, or just ignore the world and continue sleeping. We choose whether to start the day with a prayer or not, whether we want to take a long shower or a quick one. We choose which clothes to wear, and if we have time for breakfast or not. Decisions are made one after another throughout the day. But these choices, they don't affect us much. In the long run, maybe, like how the kinds of food we eat or how active we are will determine how healthy we stay forty years down the line, but as our day-to-day life goes, we don't give these choices much thought.

Then again, making choices is the easy bit. It's living with the consequences that can leave us awake at night, bathed in sweat and tears.

When I was thirteen I entered a boarding school. I did it to please my parents and the rest of the family, but I was responsible for ultimately enrolling there. The experience became a six-month hell both for me and my family. My siblings hated me then, and I tested my parents' patience and love to their limits. The whole mess culminated in me harming myself. I drank half a bottle of Benadryl, and I slashed my right forearm several times. After several weeks of therapy, the counsellors decided what I did wasn't a suicide attempt, but a desperate measure to get out the school. I told them that from the start, but did they believe me? Adults. What can I say?

I could have tried my darnest to fit in. I could have waited patiently and let the adults deal with my transfer (which took too damn long). I could have slashed my wrist instead of my forearm. What I did was wrong and stupid, and it almost gave Mama a heart attack (she played it cool and scolded me instead), but if I hadn't gone through it, I would have found suicide more than tempting when things became tough. You see, I'm in a love-hate relationship with myself. I heard most artists battle this particular inner demon. I still have the scars on my forearm to remind me of what I did, of what could have happened. I still have the scars to remind me that no matter how dark my life is, I want to choose life even if it means struggling even to breathe.

When I became a social pariah toward the end of high school, I could have easily skipped school and loitered at shopping complexes. I could have taken up smoking. Instead, I locked myself in the Garudamas room and concentrated on rebuilding the school magazine from scratch. Granted, I could have used the time studying, and my results would have been much better. But that year (1998), Garudamas became a benchmark for other school magazines. We became the magazine to beat. And I'm still a doctor, now pursuing Neurosurgery, so it wasn't all that bad. However, just to prove how our decisions can affect our future, when I sat for the Master's Program interview, the professor commented that he could foresee me struggling to pass the course because I had bad Chemistry and Physics result. I had decided to leave the comment unanswered, but inside, I chose to take that as a challenge. And I love challenges.

Also, when I joined the Master's Program last month, another professor commented on how severe my lack of theoretical knowledge was (and still is). It stung, but when I got back to the apartment, I opened my books and read about the topic we discussed earlier. And I rediscovered how much I love learning new things and understanding how the human body works. I admit, I'm not passionate about it. I still prefer tweeting and writing blog posts (like this one), but at least now I can answer more questions than I could earlier. Still feel stupid, but at least I'm getting somewhere.

Not everything turns out well, though. When I decided to confront Reza with what I found out about the things he did, I knew our friendship would end horribly. But I cared too much to let his bad decisions affect his future. I lost him anyway, and I could no longer be there for him, but whether he acknowledges it or not, I'll always be around when he needs a brother and a friend the most. That will never change, even though I'm already adjusting to life without him.

And most notable is my giving a relationship a chance. As I said, I'm in a love-hate relationship with myself, and I cannot romantically love someone when I cannot love myself. For the longest time, I stood in front of the fork, not daring to pick a path, to move forward.

It's scary as hell, but my feet are finally moving. It's too early to say anything, so I won't.

In life, backtracking is not possible. Every word we say, every action we do, has its reaction and consequence. However, we can choose to stay where we are, or we can choose one of the paths laid out in front of us. We may end up making the wrong choice, and if we're lucky, we can jump onto another path and walk it. Or we can always face the consequences of our decisions, good and bad.

I count myself one lucky guy. My family may not always understand me, but they love me nontheless. I can always count on Mama, Kasha, Faiz (and now Ayis, too) when it matters the most. I can count on my closest friends. And from my track record, I hope I can keep on counting on myself to make the best decisions for me, and boldly face the repercussions of my choices.

 

"Oh, yeah, the other path would have been a much better choice. But at least I picked one. Because if I hadn't, I'd still be standing up in those woods."