Benjamin: he came back a changed laptop

So, my laptop, Benjamin, was having some issues. I had to send him to the shop to be fixed. He had some minor problems and I was going to send him but a couple of days before I planned to do it, he crashed. The screen went blue and it said that windows was forced to shut down. Of course, I went into a silent panic.

We took him to the PC doctors and they said that the hard drive was damaged and it needed to be replaced. So ok, we replace the hard drive and fix the other small problems too. Now, I know what replacing the hard drive meant. I expected to lose all my data and I did, I expected to have to reinstall some things like VLC and perhaps Google Chrome. I was prepared for that.

However, things hardly ever go according to plan, right?

As it turns out, I have Benjamin but back it's like he's a totally new thing. The usual suspects were missing (i.e: data, VLC, latest Skype). BUT, something feels a little off with it. Something wasn't quite right.

That's when it hit me. MICROSOFT OFFICE! Benjamin didn't have microsoft office installed anymore! So I can't open any words files. All my thesis work and part time work can't be access on Benji yet because he doesn't know how to do it. Damn it.

Also, the mouse pad is different. I used to be able to scroll with it using two fingers. Now, it's kinda of backtracked to an old fashioned only-one-finger-function mousepad. So no scrolling at all. I only just realised how much I rely on that function. I'm trying to scroll through things and I end up feeling like a fool because it doesn't work anymore.

That stumps me, though. Why would changing the hard drive affect the mouse at all? I suppose this must be a software issue. Did I get an old mouse software to replace the one in my old hard drive?? That really sucks.

All in all, I am happy that I have Benji back but I wish the mouse was the same. :(

The screen also feels different to me but maybe that's just me

Wanted: Excitement and Intrigue

I have no idea what life is right now.

I feel lost, unsure, insecure. I feel slow, heavy, jaded.

I had dinner with a friend yesterday and we spent a a few hours just talking. I haven't seen him in a while so there was lots to talk about. For him, at least. So much had happened to him and so many things were happening to him and we spent all that time just talking about every single thing I had missed in his life. And them more time on every single thing that he was looking forward to, things he had planned, the way he's grown as a person.

But when the conversation turned to me, I had nothing to say. There was nothing new to report. The time that had elapsed since we last talked was filled with monotony and dull, daily living for me. There was no intrigue or excitement. There were no new experiences and no upcoming exciting experiences to look forward to. Everything was just so boring. And I don't mean that I'm bored (though I sometimes am) or that life was boring (though it sometimes is). I just mean that I have not done anything worth talking about at all. I have not gone through anything worth sharing and I have nothing even remotely stimulating to talk about in terms of my life.

Am I that person now? Is this what my life has become? I am the boring friend. I am the jaded one who just sits and latches on to other people's stories as they tell them because it's so much more exciting than my own.

I never wanted to be this and I never thought I would be, but here I am.


But the question is, am I inherently this person? Or is this just something we all have to handle sometimes? Is it one of those many phases of life?

I sure hope so. I hope it's a phase.

I don't want to be stuck like this forever.

I want some excitement. I want to go out and get it.

But where do I begin?

75% Tired, 25% Procrastination

The title is my reason for being here. Well, 75% a reason and 25% an excuse.

This month really is the month of horror. Halloween, check. Costume, nada. Massive pile of assignments, double check. 

Four in one week. And then another. Or more accurately: five in eight days.

3 of those are group assignments so it's not that I have to do it all by myself. I'm thankful for that. 

One of the individual assignment is a big one that I should have started on sooner, like a week before. It's a 4000 word literature review on a topic of my choosing which has to be related to cognitive/learning phenomenons in animals. Sounds peachy... but it really isn't. Interesting but immensely tedious.

I actually started a week ago but I had no idea what to look for in the highly technical journals which make up the pool of literature in the field of comparative psychology. I read journal after journal and understood only the bare minimum. So of course, I decided to hold off on it till later.

Well, later is here.

And I'm kinda panicking.

I have a little over a week to write a comprehensive paper on imitation in animals (topic of my choice). I think I can do this. Sure. I always manage to finish on time (except for one paper when I was 10 minutes late because I couldn't find parking). So what's the point in panicking, am I right?

WRONG.

This time, I have 4 other assignments to work on. Two of which are due three days before this and another that's due on the same day as this literature review. Mentally though, if I pay attention to my internal emotions and thought processes, I find that I'm in full blown anxiety mode.

I have a stack of journals to read in preparation for the in-class assignment on Tuesday. I have a reflection to write for the other Tuesday assignment.

On top of that, I have to work on an essay about the Stoic philosophical view on the meaning of life; due on Sunday. AND, write that darned lit review (this includes reading about 15 journals and trying to make sense of it).

Oh, also, I have to work on the assignment that's due on the eight day of aforementioned little-over-a-week from hell. For this, I have to read journals, help delegate sections to my group members, possibly compile all the sections and standardise the language. 

That's the big 5 for this month.

You think that's all... it's not.

I have a meeting next week for another group assignment which is due on the 17th of next month and I need to go prepared so I'll be able to contribute. That brings me up to five full assignments and one half of a sixth assignment.

Cool. I haven't had time to really paint or draw at all these past week. :(

(I realise that this is me complaining and I accept full responsibility for it. I should get a grip and get to work. Less talk and more work means less stress. I can do this)

I used to be really good at coming up with titles

Sometimes I get this sudden and overwhelming feeling of anxiety about the future.

I begin to worry about getting a job, getting a house, work shoes. I worry about what I'd be like and whether I'd be able to get more tattoos and what if my current tattoos prevent me from getting a job. I worry about even finding a job. I worry about the future need to get a new laptop, about new clothes and a new bras. I worry about what life will be like and what the world will be like. I worry about who my friends will be and if the current friends I have will still be around. I feel anxious.

All this worrying happens for like 3 minutes and then I go back to being unperturbed.

I think there's a word for this feeling but I can't seem to find it.

Anyway, moving on. I have a meeting with my thesis supervisor this week. I'm really excited about it but I'm also a little nervous. I have a rough idea of what I want my topic to be but I've not done much research on it yet and I'm wondering if I should. I mean, I know that the first few conversations that I will have with my supervisor is going to revolve around refining my topic, but wouldn't it be amazing and totally productive if I went in for this meeting well prepared?

The answer is yes, of course it would.

I have a paper due on Thursday. I should finish writing it tomorrow so I can start some thesis research. I don't want to let my supervisor down and I want this thesis to be well thought out and well written. It's not impossible and I will do it.

So, decision made. I will do some research before the meeting so I can have a productive conversation with my supervisor.

Also, if I get some research done now, I can put aside thesis work in October and focus on assignments instead. I have like, 6 assignments due that month. It'll be the month when I feel like the white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland. Once every semester.

Ok.

That's all. I just really wanted to write down how I sometimes feel about the future. But then the words started flowing and here we are. This worrying thing has happened 2-3 times this past couple of weeks. That's more than usual and it's kind of freaking me out.

We are made of star-stuff

 On this episode of Kath's Journey in Philosophy: We are made of star-stuff!

We were still talking about reality in class today. Somehow, we got around to talking about what we're made of. We watched Neil deGrasse Tyson's TIME interview that is on YouTube. He said we are made of the universe, and the universe is made of us. We are composed of the same basic elements that the universe is made of. We originated from that same central moment of the beginning of everything. So when we look up into the sky and see what we can of the universe beyond Earth, we don't have to feel small because we are the universe. Everything that is in those stars and planets is in us as well.

Our lecturer also talked about the Hadron Colliders in Cern and Buffalo. An experiment was conducted on two subatomic (maybe?) particles, one at each location. I really don't know the technicalities or science behind it so I'm not going to explain it. Not yet. I'll keep reading because I still don't understand. BUT, the point is, that the two particles 'resonated' with each other and it brought up the possibility that every particle is connected; that all energy is somehow connected.

When I put those two ideas together in my head, I was exhilarated. I was so moved. We are made of the same basic elements (which is obvious but not exciting until you really put some thought into it) and we (quite probably) all resonate with each other on a subatomic level. We are so intricately connected in more ways than one.

I cannot even begin to express how much this blows my mind.

I turned to Li Huan who was sitting next to me to tell him how amazed I was and I teared up.

That's how much.

Imagine if we all knew this, if we all accepted that this is entirely possible - that everything in us hails from the same, one moment in time, and that all the particles in us resonate as one. Imagine that. Once that becomes our truth, how can there be any hate? How can there be anything less that acceptance, care and understanding. How can there be anything less than love and eternal connectedness (not a word?)?

When I looked at Li Huan and I tried to articulate my excitement, I felt so connected to him. I felt connect to him and everyone around me in a way that I've never felt before. We were one.We are one. Every part of my being is essentially the same as every part in his being.

You know when you find someone who has the exact same pencil case that you have and you're like, "Duuude! We have the exact same pencil case! That is so awesome!" and you are genuinely excited; you feel this instant connection with that person because you found that first common ground, that feeling of pure joy and unity that strikes you so suddenly. That is what I felt but on a much larger, more primal and universal scale.

YOU AND ME ARE ONE.

And that is the most exciting, mind-blowing and (hopefully) life changing moment I have ever had the pleasure to experience.

I WANT BLUE HAIR NOW PLEASE

I REALLY WANT TO DYE MY HAIR BLUE

I've been wanting to do this for a while now and I've been saving money.

But then I decided to do it myself. Well, me and Vill. She wants some purple and I want two shades of blue. I found a shop when I was walking around with Nadiah and it sold hair dyes of various brands. They also had bleach and just so many other hair products.

I want the bottom part of my hair to be visibly blue. So like a lighter than midnight blue kind of colour or maybe just bright, deep blue. As for the top of my hair, I want it to be really dark blue; blue black.

I'm so excited about this. Mostly because I'm going to do it myself. No salon. No expensive stylists.

I've watched so many videos on how to bleach and dye hair. I've watched tutorials on using different types of bleach and how to get the ombre effect. I now have a lot more information about hair dyeing than I did this morning. I know about different strengths of bleach and different brands of hair dye. I know why I should use foil and I know how to get an even colour.

I JUST WANT TO START PUTTING ALL THIS NEW FOUND KNOWLEDGE TO GOOD USE!

I am so restless. I just really want to dye my hair. It's so exciting; dyeing my own hair. It's so exciting to think that I'm going to have blue hair soon. It's so exciting to know that Vill is going to have some purple in her hair. EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS EXCITING except the waiting. The waiting sucks.

And the only silver lining I can find is delayed gratification.

I will definitely love the blue hair so much more after all this waiting.

NOW PLEASE

I've also been thinking about actually having blue hair. Being a student, this would be great. I think I'll look nice with blue hair and I'd have so much fun telling people that I did it at home. AND, I would probably be more confident about dyeing my hair more often. I'm still in uni. I might as well make the most of it.

I doubt I'll be able to have funky hair in most jobs in Malaysia.

Speaking of jobs, I haven't found anything that I could possibly apply for that is related to my psychology degree. It's kind of sad. So I don't want to think about it more on this post. Maybe another post in the future.

I WANT BLUE HAIR NOW PLEASE

Metaphysics and My Reality

I'm taking a Philosophy of Life and Death class this semester. It's mentally taxing and extremely intriguing. We talk about many philosophers and what they have said or written about life and death. We talk about contemporary ideas on philosophy and we challenge our own ideas on meaning and everything else related to philosophy.

The best (and worst) part about this class is that I start each lesson feeling confused and eager and by the end of it I'm confused and lost. 

For now, we've gone into metaphysics. We're talking about reality and the nature of it. There are a few main hypotheses about reality posed by a few philosophers; duality, computer mediated, creation and a combination of all three. (I was gonna link you to things but it's more of a bunch of links for each theory so you can go here to look at it all and more)

Personally, I really like the duality hypothesis. It makes sense to me and I like what it implies about reality.

Basically, we have the external, physical world and the internal reality which is our mind (thoughts, ideas and perceptions). Reality is the physical and the mental aspects coexisting. Two separate aspects, that is, where the mind is somewhat in control of the body and the physical world but it is also limited to the environment we are in because the mind responds to outside stimuli quite a bit.

What do I think is reality? What is my take on the nature of reality?

I don't fully know yet. I do think that whatever I'm about to say isn't original. I've collected thoughts and ideas from other people, other thinkers, and merely pieced some parts together to fit my understanding.

Reality is the life I lead. It is true for me. The limited space/environment that I am in is my reality and the knowledge and information I can access adds to that reality. The physical world is a huge part of my reality and it has a major impact on my internal world, which in itself is vast and seemingly infinite. I cannot discount science because I do think that it provides us with some form of understanding of the world we live in. However, I cannot say for certain that science is accurate because every form of measurement was conceived in relation to everything else in the world. Which means that science is only accurate in relation of everything else. Measurement is what we humans created so that we could have some structure. So if we meet an alien race, their measurements would likely be entirely different to ours. That brings up an issue because if science is only accurate in relation to everything else, we will need to make sure that everything else is accurate in order to say that our science is accurate. But how do we do that? The whole concept of measurement is that it is done in relation to everything else. This then renders science inaccurate or at least, unreliable in the grand scheme of things, at least in my reality. 

So what is accurate? I don't think anything can be accurate; at least not by my understanding. Accuracy is what we say it is and nothing more. Who is to say, then, that reality is not that as well? Following that train of logic, reality is what we say it is. Reality is subjective. And so my reality is what I make it, within the confines of my knowledge and experience. If my external experience of the world has led me to an internal conclusion of the presence or existence of God or a divine/supreme/supernatural force, then that becomes my reality. 

That also means that I have to accept that other people have their own subjective reality. On the one hand, if I'm saying that I create my own reality, I can argue that these other realities that are subject to other people are merely my own creation. If I create my own reality, I also create the reality of others around me because they are just part of my creation of reality. A paradox.

On the other hand, I'd prefer to think that each person is real in their own right and they each have their own bubbles of reality. These bubbles may coincide or diverge, but they are subject to the person experiencing it. This means that I will have to accept that there are realities out there which are just as real as mine but I may never experience or know; so it is, at the same time, not real to me. Sounds like a multiple reality theory because it is, but this is one where all these realities coexist in one universe. 

Of course, I don't think this long winded explanation is fool proof, nor is it infallible. I'm sure I could raise more questions from my explanation if I thought about it longer. Like, if my mind is my reality, does that mean that everything I know and experience in my mind is real? If so, can I mould my reality to whatever I want it to be? And many other logically sound questions.

I am thoroughly enjoying this class.  *I've been gesturing the thumbs up in my head for everything positive I've encountered these past few day and I don't know why*

Unhappiness is the ultimate form of self-indulgence

At one point in my life, I thought I could be more than just a statistic. I thought I could be a person who is more than just another person. I thought that maybe I could be smarter than the average person or really talented in one thing, perhaps ambitious and successful, maybe even funnier than most people. However, the older I get, the more I feel like those things are never going to happen.

I don't feel talented. I know I'm not ambitious. I definitely cannot make a living out of being funny.

What I feel is this: I am nothing more than a statistic. I am not an anomaly, I am not an exception. I am merely average and I am not more.

Now, I don't think there's anything wrong with being average. Some people live for being average. Most people don't even think about it and that is why they are average. But me, I don't want to be average. I want to be special. I want to be different. I value difference.

But I'm not. I can study and be smarter, sure, but not exceptionally smarter. I can keep painting and getting better but I don't know that I'll ever be able to make it my life's work.

And on the other hand, I believe that with hardwork and patience, I can be anything I can. I can be exceptional and incredible.

Then I go back to feeling like I can't do any of those things. It's a cycle, you see. And I need to find a way to get out of it.

And then I think about this quote I saw online: 

You make mistakes because you’re focusing on the target and not on your actions - a person's archery trainer

It makes sense to me, with a little adjustment. I feel lost because I'm focusing on the target (who I want to be) and not on my actions.

I have to stop thinking about all the things I want to be but feel I can't and start focusing on what I'm doing right now to get wherever that is not here.

I have to start doing.

I have to take control of my life and my behaviour and do what I want to do to be the person that I want to be. I cannot depend on anyone else to do it for me.

Here's another appropriate quote:
But I can't move the mountains for you - Mumford & Sons

Finally, this:
When you’re unhappy, you get to pay a lot of attention to yourself. And you get to take yourself oh so very seriously. Your truly happy people, which is to say, your people who truly like themselves, they don’t think about themselves very much. Your unhappy person resents it when you try to cheer him up, because that means he has to stop dwellin’ on himself and start payin’ attention to the universe. Unhappiness is the ultimate form of self-indulgence. - Tom Robbins

I have to remember this. One of those light bulb moments that, in hindsight, is totally obvious.

I remember the times when I'm happy. And in those moments, I don't see myself. I remember what's around me, the people, the emotions. I was so happy and it didn't matter that I was focused on other people.

When I'm sad, I'm so engrossed in my own issues and my own agenda that I don't see other people. I forget to remember them or pay attention to the world around me.

Is it that unhappiness makes me self indulgent or does self indulgence make me unhappy?

I supposed I'll have to figure it out on my own.

I have to go out there and do things. Read and learn and do things because I know it will make me happy.

Paper Towns, My Margo and Salty Fries.

I just read Paper Towns. It's a really good read. I've also recognised a pattern in John Green books, a pattern that is further corroborated by Paper Towns.

Paper Towns, specifically, goes something like this. Young man; nerdy, socially inept, life not fully lived. Young woman ; lost, damaged, confident, flamboyant and elegant, beautiful to the young man. He falls in love from a far. She teaches him how to be more than himself. She disappears. He grieves. He finds her. She leaves. They realise just how much more they have become because of each other, and because of themselves. Then they move on without each other.

Margo Roth Speigelman. I imagined her just like Quentin did. The Margo I know is not the real Margo. The idea I have of her is who I want to be. Not the real Margo, though. I don't want to be her. I thought I did. Because, like Q, I was engulfed with the idea of this paper girl and who I thought she was. As I neared the end of the book, I realised how wrong I was. My Margo was just another mirror. (Though sometimes I think I can come pretty darn close to being the real Margo).

My Margo. The wanderlust and the need to leave. To go somewhere new and be someone new, but doing it in a way that doesn't include ripping myself away from everything and everyone I love like a BandAid. The Margo who organises TP'ing campaigns and who explores abandoned buildings just to sit in them. That Margo. I am not brave enough to be that Margo.

What about the real Margo Roth Speigelman? I think she felt trapped. She felt unreal and she needed a new place to find herself. A new place to set roots in, only to feel trapped again and leave for another new place (like Q said). Constantly lost Margo.

But then again, we're all lost, are we not? At some point in every persons life, they feel lost. Some decide to un-lose themselves and accept the lives they have in the predictable path that's been laid out for them. These people decide to find themselves in routine and normalcy, thoroughly okay with fact that their lives will forevermore be nothing but routine and 'normal'. They'd embrace their true calling to live as just another statistic.

And others, others cannot bear to let themselves remain un-found and lost so they end up embracing the unplanned, the thrilling void of unknowing and adventure. They dive head first into nothingness and everything-ness because that is so much better than routine. It's just so much more.

I want to be the one who embraces adventure. I want to be the one who hops from town to town, always looking, never settling, knowing that the planning is what keeps me going more than the destination ever can. But eventually, I also want to be the one who embraces monotony and predictability. Can I be both? Or must I be neither?

Also, why do I even want to know these things?

***

On a side note, I was craving for french fries a few days ago. I really wanted some good potato fries. I wanted a combination of salty, skinny McD fries and fat, potatoey Carl's Jr. fries. I tried to satisfy this craving by make pumpkin fries but I failed miserably and ended up intensifying my craving for the regular potato variety.

A few days later, I woke up and I didn't want fries anymore. I mean, I wouldn't decline fries if someone offered me some but I definitely wasn't craving them.

It got me thinking about how temporary that was; the craving for something, anything. I wanted it so badly only a few days ago but now, I don't even think about it.

However, this over analysing of my craving for fries and the subsequent non-craving for said fries may just be a result of over-spill from processing Paper Towns and wanting to be my Margo Roth Speigelman.

Right now, I want fries again.

That one final stretch before the start of everything... or has everything already begun?

I’m thinking about the future, specifically my future, and I’m scared. I’m not even going very far into the future; more like the one that’s looming closer each day, the immediate post graduation future.

What’s next?

I am so afraid. I have no idea what to do when I get there. I know I want art therapy. Well, I know I want art in some way or the other and art therapy is the most obvious choice I have right now that involves both art and psychology (don’t want that degree to go to waste).

I told mama and she asked me, “Is it practical?” I HAVE NO IDEA. There isn’t really a market for art therapists here in Malaysia, I know that. I know that even the idea of therapy, no matter what the form, is still a taboo in this part of the world. So obviously, I’ll have to throw practicality out the window for this one. Will it guarantee me a stable financial basis? No. Will it even guarantee me a proper job? No. I don’t even know how to get into the field apart from getting an internship or Masters in Art Therapy which is not offered locally.

So what’s my back up plan? What happens if art therapy has to take a back seat for now? What happens if I cannot pursue art therapy right now, in the beginning of the rest of my life? What else can I do? I don’t want to do clinical psychology and I don’t want to do research. I also would rather not get into any form of corporate or organisational psychology because I am not a fan of big corporations or conglomerates. 

What then? What other options am I left with?

These were the questions mama brought up in our conversation about my near future. She’s right, of course. I have to think about getting a steady job, kicking off a career, financial stability, using my knowledge from the psych degree in a way that would benefit me.

BUT, I don’t want to think of it that way. I don’t want to choose my job or career path based on whether or not it’ll give me a good salary. I don’t want to think about the ‘practical application of my degree’. I don’t want to be stuck doing something just for the money. I want to do what I love. I want to make art and I want to use art to help people. I know the industry isn’t big here, not yet; but I would like to get into the movement of expanding the use of art in this country. I’d like to do that.

However, I am also acutely aware that my strong desire to get involved in art therapy is, right now, not altruistically motivated. I want to get involved in art for myself. I want art for me. I want to create things and learn new art forms. And right now, the only way I can make art and money at the same time seems to be through art therapy. And that’s not a good enough reason to be involved in therapy, I think - because what I want is selfish and this should be a selfless path.

So what then? Where do I go from here? I don’t want to keep studying (because I know that’s just a way for me to keep hiding from my future, delaying the inevitable responsibilities of complete adulthood), I don’t want a ‘boring and practical job’. I don’t want to have to pick a path based on financial needs and long term stability.

I want to do something that makes me happy.  I want to create. I want to participate in art. I want to travel. I want to experience the world. I want to live. How do I decide on that?

Paint Only Good Things

A close friend asked me once, "When your realise that a lot of people in your life can leave wounds in your soul, do you start wondering if they're worth it?" The answer is no. I never thought about it until she asked me that. But the answer I gave her came pouring out like I've had it in my head for years already. I guess I have subconsciously thought about (this point may not be relevant. I just wanted to point it out because the the human brain is incredible and it never ceases to amaze me).

Here's what I think:

Everything painful in life leaves a wound. Time heals it, sometimes without morphine. But most people do eventually heal. After that, you're left with a memory and a scar. 

Imagine you had a blank piece of paper and every person in life has a paintbrush. When you meet someone, be it for one moment or many moments, they leave a mark on your paper. Sooner or later, you realise that people sometimes leave marks that are not pretty at all and in a colour that you completely hate. So you stop letting people paint your paper because you don't want them to ruin it. You start by keeping them at arms length, fearing for the state of your piece of paper.

But still, some people are able to flick paint onto your paper. They get paint on the wrong spots and in the most horrible colours, even when you keep it so far away from them. So then you decide to put your paper in a glass case with whatever marks it already has. Your aim is, still, to preserve that piece of paper from further 'damage'. People try to paint it but the paint doesn't stick so they move on because life is about painting on other people's papers Eventually, you're left with that same old paper from the day you chose to box it up. The same marks, the same creases. Never changing. Stagnant. You don't allow for the chance that your paper might be painted by people who are beautiful and talented. You stand next to your glass encased paper and watch as people pass you by, insisting that you are better off like this.

Eventually, you get lonely so you finally decide to take your paper out of it's case because you want new paint on it and you think it's time. You are finally ready to take that chance. The moment you open the case, your paper crumbles in the air because the it's dry and brittle from being in the glass case for so long. There was no new paint to give it life, no wet paint to soften it. And all that you're left with is a pile of dust in your hands. No one else can ever paint it again because no one knows how to paint a pile of crumbled paper.

I think every person will leave a scar and everyone is worth it. At least until they start turning scars into fatal wounds. But till then, life is about painting other people's lives and trying your hardest to make sure you don't ruin their beautifully painted paper. Being wounded is a natural part of life. Without spots of intense ugliness on your paper, you'd never know how stunning the rest of it is. The point is to spread as much beauty as you can and to limit the amount of damage you bring into the world.

Everyone is worth the scars they leave you. Because the scars they leave you are what makes you special.

Apologising is difficult. So don't do anything that would require an apology.

Why is apologising so hard to do?

I've had this question in my head for quite a while. I think about it sometimes and other times, I push it away because I don't want to deal with it. It's an interesting question, though.

I'm quite sure that there are many people in the world who find the act of apologising to be really difficult to go through with. I don't know if I have an answer that I'm completely satisfied with but I'm ok with the one I have so far. For now, at least.

To answer this question, I had to first ask myself what I do in my mind when I have to apologise for something. I went through the steps:

1. I recognise feelings of guilt and heaviness.
2. I try to brush off those feelings by placing the blame on someone else
3. I find that I'm trying to convince myself that whatever happened was not, in fact, my fault
4. I realise that I'm being a douchewad
5. I acknowledge that I was wrong and I need to apologise
6. I play out over 50 different scenarios of me apologising
7. I realised that I my heart is beating out the samba
8. I finally apologise

The problem is, by the time I get through all that, a significant amount of time has passed and that just adds to the difficulty level. The longer you wait, the thicker the air.

The other person might think that you thought were right, or they might think that you don't care enough to apologise. Both of these are most likely untrue but the longer you wait, the more truth you add to them, at least in the eyes of the person you wronged.

Eventually, you're brain will go back to step 2 because that's the only way it knows how to reduce the discomfort (other than actually apologising, of course). It's a vicious cycle and I know that I should never get caught in it because as much as time heals wounds, if you leave the knife in, time has a way for increasing the pain.

I watched a video on productivity. To be exact, it was about how to be more productive and to stop procrastinating. One of the advice was to break tasks up into smaller, less daunting bits. Like if you had an essay to write, it helps to break it down into it's individual sections like introduction, point 1 point 2, conclusion, and tackle each section separately. Smaller, less daunting tasks.

I decided to try this our with apologising. An entire apology definitely qualifies as challenge so I broke it down into small parts. Part one: getting the other person's attention (a tap on the shoulder, "Hey, ____"). That's all I have to think about first. Get their attention. Part two: Say the words, "I'm sorry." (and remember, apologise for what I did instead of how they're feeling, i.e: "I'm sorry I said/did that thing" instead of "I'm sorry you're upset/ I'm sorry that what I said - or did - upset you"). Part three: Wait.

So, does this help me answer my initial question - why is apologising so hard to do?

I don't think it does. Not completely. I am afraid, but afraid of what? I make a mistake and I should apologise but it seems like my ego is fighting against me, turning my guilt into displaced anger. Blaming everyone else but myself seems to be the biggest anchor. That makes acknowledging my mistake the biggest and most important step towards apologising.

(I've used the word 'apologise' 6 times in this post, 7 including that one. That's not a lot considering the total number of words there are in this post but it sure feels like a lot).

Assignment 2: Emotional Journal

That's what I have to do for one of my classes this semester. Since it's an official assignment, I need to also include journal articles and references but the basic idea is the same; write about one particular event that made me feel one particular emotion and analyse it, as one usually does when one keeps a journal.

I was really excited when I found out that this was the assignment. Here's why.

That's it. This right here, this blog. It's basically the entire assignment.

I write my thoughts down all the time. I talk to myself like this and at least half the time, I'm analysing emotional events. This will be a fun assignment, I'm sure. The tough part will be looking for journals but I think that won't be too bad because once I pick which three emotions (or emotional events) to write about, journals will be easy to pin down.

I just need to start going through my posts and things I've written these past two months. There isn't much this year compared to the previous years but I still have some pretty decent paragraphs. I can't wait to do this (once I eventually get started la... which will probably be sometime in the middle of March).

For now, I have an exam on Tuesday to worry about. I still have lots to read for this particular subject and I've not made any progress at all. I've been putting it off. What I do have is a bunch of excuses and complaints about why it's so difficult to get any studying done with the incredibly complicated notes that we have (notes that have been scanned and uploaded for us because the textbook is so bloody expensive and our lecturer is really kind to us).

I really need to work on this productivity thing (and typing without looking at the keyboard. I'm still a novice typer).

***

We talked about emotional regulation today. As predicted, we covered Freud's ego defense mechanisms: denial, displacement, projection, rationalisation, reaction formation, regression, repression, suppression and sublimation. We also talked about emotional coping strategies such as situation modification and cognitive strategies.

Basically, how to handle your emotions.

My favourite forms of coping with extreme emotional tidal waves are sublimation and rationalisation. Rationalisation is basically what I've always done. Going through a situation or event and making sense of it. That sounds easy to do and it sometimes is but also take a lot of thinking and analysing.

Sublimation is the more creative approach. When you sublimate, you channel the strong emotions into something productive like writing poetry or making any kind of art. Using those emotions as an energy which you then transform into something creative (or nice. Just... be productive).

I think that's a smart thing to do with your emotions. I think everyone should be exposed to these coping strategies. Many people are not familiar with the idea of emotional regulation. In fact, some people may not even realise that they can control or cope with their emotions. We are not soda cans that have been rolling around the backseat, just waiting to explode when we're popped. We are intelligent mammals who have undergone many years of evolution in order to be where we are today, with the most developed cerebral cortex of any animal in the known world. So, it should stand to reason that we are capable of managing our emotions.

We just need to be taught.

Vlogbrothers

John and Hank Green are brothers and they have a Youtube channel called Vlogbrothers. They post videos of themselves talking about lots of stuff. They talk to each other via these videos and sometimes they make videos together. I think (but I really have no idea and I'm too lazy and tired to find out) it started out as a way for them to just keep in touch and have fun creating things but then it grew it a huge channel as more and more people started to watch their videos. They have fans called Nerdfighters who are collectively know as Nerdfighteria. 

I think it's a really cool thing to do. Sometimes the videos are about one or two topics and other times it's just John or Hank talking to the other about stuff that's happening in their life and things they've been thinking about. I especially like when they end with, "I'll see you Monday" (sometimes it's Friday). It's adorable.

I just spent at least 2 hours watching some of their videos and I'm happier at the end of those at-least-two-hours. I really enjoy watching these videos and they actually make me feel better. It's really nice to see them talk to each other and joke around and be all brotherly. I think it's cute. Also, I like that John refers to his wife as 'The Yeti'. 

Anyway, it's a great channel to subscribe to if you spend a lot of time on Youtube. They both speak really fast so the videos are fast paced but I guarantee you, you will not be disappointed.


On a completely unrelated topic, I've decided to stop feeling sorry for myself. I am blessed in more ways than one and I need not wallow in self pity or sorrow. I watched a lot of SoulPancake videos too and I realised that one of the best ways to live my life is to live it happily. So that's what I will do. 

*Insert A Witty Title About Brushstrokes*

Someone once told me to make a list of what I like to do and do it.

It took me a while, but I've started painting. Not regularly, though. I paint when I'm bored or just really feel like creating.

That's what I did today.

I used to think that painting (or creating) was therapeutic. Making things with my hands, watching things come together, art; I thought that it would make me feel better, and happier because I was making something out of stuff that are basically nothing on their own. That's the general idea, isn't it? When we say art therapy, we expect some sense of release and relief. We expect to be better off than when we started. I know now that I was wrong.

Today is my day off and I didn't want to read biopsych so I decided to paint instead.

I was relatively cheery these past 2 days. Everything seemed funnier and brighter. So when I picked up my paint brush and unscrewed the lids off my tiny paint bottles, I was expecting to feel even better at the end of the process; happier and a lot less bored.

The first page was nonsense. Just colours... not even nice colours. After that, I painted a cat silhouette. Then a ram. Then the TARDIS (which I ruined with a badly painted quote). I continued with a few other things.

Throughout the painting process, I suddenly felt lighter but darker. At first I didn't get it. I definitely didn't feel bored anymore, but I didn't know what else I felt.

Once I painted my last thing of the day, I laid back and started to think.

I wasn't bored anymore. I had worked that restless energy off. But I wasn't happier. In fact, I was less happy than when I started. I felt a little gloomier, sadder. And I didn't understand. Why did painting and creating make me feel so sad? It was supposed to do the opposite.

I kept thinking about it.

And then it hit me. Art didn't suddenly reverse it's effect. No. Art did exactly what it has always done. It stripped away my shell. With each brush stroke, I let my guard down. As I completed each painting, one more brick was removed.

Art revealed my core. It took everything away - the mask and the defense systems - and left me with the harsh reality of what I was really feeling. The sadness and the gloom. I was forced to face my waves. Apparently, I wasn't actually as happy as I thought I was. I mean, I know that I wasn't exactly chirpy and completely content. I guess I just didn't want to face the amount of 'sad' I have in me right now.

In hindsight, this is not all that surprising. I was putting on a mask and it worked well enough for me to ignore the tiny slivers of grey creeping through. I just laughed a littlelouder and smiled a little bigger to block it all out. Everything got ripped away when I started painting, though.

I won't say I feel better now but I know that I feel less fake. I suppose that's all that matters, really. Being real with myself.

The Caterpillar You Think You Understand

I wrote a story about a caterpillar today. Nothing special. It was about a caterpillar turning into a butterfly, and the existential crisis it encountered during the process. It got me thinking; if someone read that story, they could infer so much from it; about me, life, what they think I feel or am going through.

But then again, that's not what I put into the story. I didn't project myself onto the caterpillar in the story nor do I think I did it subconsciously. Yet anyone could infer anything from any story by any author. This makes the study of literature nothing but a guessing game.

That's all.

Here's a quote I saw today that I really like:

"God said "Love your enemy," and I obeyed him and loved myself." - Khalil Gibran

p.s: Here's another thought: The internet used to be a place where people were honest but if you look closely, you'll see the mask that is thickening over everyone's emotions. You can't see the truth if they don't let you. (This could be another one of those non-relevant/related things where people infer stuff from, or it could be a mask. I guess you'll never know)

The Lecturer's Fangirl

It's that time of the year again. Time for the shortest month of the year! Which also happens to be my favourite month... for obvious reasons.

This semester has been going quite well. The subjects are interesting, the assignments are not as taxing (or maybe I've just gotten used to handing in 15 pages for each assignment every semester), and the lecturers are brilliant.

I get to see Dr. Eugene for 2 classes every week. That's 6 hours per week! This has to be the best semester I've had since I began on this psycho path. Needless to say, I'm a little bit of a fan of Dr. Eugene. His classes are always interesting and I love listening to him speak. It sounds to me that sometimes his brain wants to get the words out a lot faster than he his vocal cords can keep up with so he stumbles. Or he sounds like he's about to stumble. He's brilliant and no one can change my mind about him.

I also have Mr. Alex who is a joy to have, especially since he's the Biopsychology lecturer. He explains things really well, in my opinion and his notes are concise. Mr. Alex is to me in HELP what Pn. Nik was in secondary school. I love Bio and he makes me love it more each class. I'm actually caught up on all my biopsych readings! I was quite surprised when I realised it.

Now all I need to do I keep up with all the readings that Dr. Eugene gives us. Seriously, almost every scientific research journal is a bore to get through. The introductions are sometimes interesting but when they're not, 6 pages of a scientific prologue can be a little too much. After that, I get lost somewhere around the Methods and Results sections. The discussions are fine if you know what you're looking for. And of course, the conclusions are the best part but also the most useless section of the journal if you're looking for a line or two to explain the gist of the paper.

Anyways, this post is really just something I wrote because I feel like writing. And I really needed to get all my excitement over Dr. Eugene out to somewhere other than Davina's ears. The poor lass has been listening to me fangirl over him for the past 3 weeks now.

Happy New Year, y'all!

Smaug's Sexy Voice

I watched The Desolation of Smaug today!!

FINALLY!

I'm going to say right now that this post if not a review or anything, just me typing out my thoughts. It's going to take a few more times of watching the entire thing before I can even think of a proper review because there's just so much going on!

So here it is, my first impressions:

1. It's an exciting movie. So much happens in those almost-three hours. We see the dwarves and Biblo encounter Beorn. They escape spiders, get captured by Elves, run away into Lake Town, steal into Erebor and finally, chase out Smaug the Stupendous.
2. If you were expecting a spectacular movie that stays true to the book then you will most definitely be disappointed. However, as a stand alone film, I'd say it's pretty good. I ooh'd and ahh'd when I was supposed to, I laughed and even almost cried. It was a good experience.
3. There were so many beautiful people in this movie. SO MANY THAT I DID NOT KNOW WHO TO FOCUS ON! I'm going to watch it over an over again just so I can focus on one person each time.
4. Thorin had so many majestic close ups. Richard Armitage was glorious. 
5. Right, I might as well include a list of those beautiful people (in no particular order):
• Richard Armitage as Thorin. All those close ups and majestic speeches
• Martin Freeman as Bilbo Baggins. THIS MAN IS AMAZING. There's a scene where he loses the ring for a minute. Then he sees it on the ground and reaches for it but then a spider comes up and blocks his way and Bilbo just slaughters it, picks up the ring and says, "Mine". Then he sits back, gives it a beat and suddenly realised what just happened. It was incredible. The switch between being totally entranced by the ring and being a normal, gentle hobbit again was just ergh
• Aiden Turner as Kili. He's adorable as ever but a little bit pale on account of being poisoned. 
• Dean O'Gorman as Fili. He constantly looked like Middle Earth's heartthrob of the century. And when he decided to stay with Kili at Lake Town, it made me tear up. 
• Adam Brown as Ori. HE WAS SO ADORABLE OMG I JUST WANTED TO WRAP HIM IN  A BLANKEt AND PRoteCT HIM From the WORLD
• Benedict Cumberbatch as Smaug & Sauron. His voice has me wishing Smaug was real because holy terrors he was amazing. You could only hear a hint of Benedict beneath those growls and he did a lot of that on his own. 
• Luke Evans as Bard. He was broody, sly, brave and just everything. I cannot wait to see him kill Smaug in the next one.
• Orlando Bloom as Legolas. Bluest eyes to ever blue. He looked a little different in this one, in my opinion, but no less beautiful. His hair is shorter and he's definitely a little less refined than he was in LOTR. And I absolutely love the faces he makes when he's fighting!
• Lee Pace as Thranduil. The most beautiful he-Elf I have ever seen in my life. Sorry Legolas, your dad is King.
6. Now that's done, lets talk about what I did not quite like:
• The whole Tauriel romance thing doesn't sit well with me. I think Peter Jackson could have implied romance instead of shoving it in our faces. This line, "I wonder if she could have loved me?", that was completely unnecessary. I don't mind a Dwarf-Elf relationship but I do mind it being portrayed like some cheesy action romance.
• Beorn was all wrong! He's supposed to be a gracious host, laughing and eating and not giving much away in terms of information. It was all wrong and I did not like it.
• Kili being poisoned. What was that?? All the dwarves were supposed to go to Erebor. ALL OF THEM.
7. Here's what I absolutely adored (not everything la, just a few because listing everything would take too long):
• THRANDUIL!! He was incredible! All mighty and kingly and majestic. The way he walked and talked and just about everything, sensational.
• Tauriel. I was a little skeptical about her at first seeing as she isn't in the books but now I love her. He hair is impossibly long and well maintained (it's a wig, I know), she's sassy and beautiful and everything you'd want of a modern leading lady. She saved the day so many times I just stopped counting. 
• Lake Town. It didn't look as I had imagined it but it was pretty darn good. When the Master of Lake Town was talking to his right hand man, I almost forgot that we were watching a story about dwarves and a hobbit. I kind of wish there could be a spin off about Lake Town.
• Erebor. Treasure everywhere! And I love how Thorin covered Smaug in molten gold. It was a good attempt. And an incredible scene.
• The way Smaugs belly glowed red just before he breathes fire. That was a good touch. Smart animating.  
8. It looked to me like Legolas' eyes are much bluer than they are in LOTR. It looked a little fake but in the right angles, mesmerizing. Orlando Bloom ages pretty well.

Ok, I think that's about it. All things considered, it was a good movie. It doesn't quite measure up to LOTR, granted, but it's stands strong in it's own right. I would definitely watch it again and again just so I can file it away as a pretty good stand-alone movie. And of course, so I can enjoy the beautiful male presence. Seriously, even Dwalin had his moment of majestic posing.

Let's hope I'm better at being 22 than I was at being 26

I wonder why the new year is such a big deal? Fireworks, parties, resolutions. I see why it may be a big deal for school going people since a new year usually means new subjects, perhaps new teachers. But what about working adults? The first day of this year was a Wednesday. A normal Wednesday. They didn't go to work. But then they did on Thursday. So what's the fuss? I don't know, man, but I sure as hell was excited about it!

For me, new year means a new semester at university. The second semester of my second year. In about a year and a half, I'll be done with this. Incredible. I remember starting out and thinking to myself that three years is a hell of a long time to be studying again. I was wrong.

The new year also makes me think of my impending birthday anniversary. 22 years ago (minus about a months and a half), I was born. Imagine that. Or maybe don't. I get really nervous every time my birthday approaches. Honestly, I spent at least half my waking hours yesterday feeling all nauseous and anxious over turning 22.

It's always struck me as odd that I feel nervous. I mean, why wouldn't I be excited? I'm getting older, people are more likely to take me seriously. Also, the older I get, the more control I have over my own life and my decisions. I should be happy, excited. Instead, I'm happy and anxious. All that responsibility.

Also, I can't seem to imagine myself being any age other than what I am right now. Questions like, "Where do you see yourself in 5 or 10 years?" don't work with my brain because I don't see it as me, aged 5 years older and in the future. What I see when I try to answer the question is me right now time travelling to five years in the future, pretending to know what I'm doing and behaving in the exact way me-right-now would.

I don't know what I'd be like in five years. I don't even know if I'll be alive or have the same number of limbs; how am I supposed to know what I'd be doing with my life in that time?

So yea, birthdays make me nervous. Mostly because I have no idea what the next year of my life will bring me or how I'll will have changed by the end of it. Actually, now that I think of it, I'm also nervous because of the whole responsibility thing. I mean, c'mon, who thought it'd be a good idea to let me grow up and have a set of my own car keys and control of my own bank account?

I want to be able to handle myself well. But I also want to never let go or forget the little kid inside of me. Birthdays are just another way of celebrating the addition of another horrendously boring and routine layer of adulthood over the fun and simplicity of childhood. I have to make sure I build in a giant doorway into those layers so I can access the fun whenever I want to.

Anyways, Happy New Year :)