Equal Fights

Mediocrity is something hard to stomach when you’ve had big, ambitious dinners all these while.

I used to be a dreamer. I sew the seams of these fantasies, sealing in the air of hope which I breathe, and set them down a current for an escape from my humdrum, suffocating cage.

And one by one, I did make these dreams come true. The elation of a job well done, the pat on my own back for not settling for something lesser, the smile I see in the mirror each day knowing that I’ve done them, and myself, proud.

I forgot how that feels like.

Now, the more I trudge, the more it hit me. I stood my ground, wondering what the hell happened, wondering where it all went, while the raining thuds of my conscience give me a bad headache and overflowing eyes.

I’ve surrendered. In my comfort zone, I missed a move Reality made. In my victory, I did not see the gleam in Its eyes. In my smugness, I forgot that what I have now is not forever mine. We work at it, we improve it, we work at it some more – and I forgot all about this as my personal champagne flows.

Writing took hard work, photography took constant alertness and a missing self-consciousness, TT Night took sleep and peace and pak-toh hours, UTAR Ball took hours in front of the computer panicking. Etcetera.

But it was, as they say, a good game. If you ask me, I’ll tell you it’s a bloody f-ing great game. I mentally run through the field with my hands up-stretched while my cells gave me uproar of cheers, whenever these tasks were completed with a sense of satisfaction.

Now, I’ve appeared to be further and further away from my passion. If you can still call it my passion, since I rarely engage in it anymore. I spend my days, all right, but perhaps they are not as well-spent as I intended it to. Heck, that’s just a longer way of saying I’m wasting my days.

I have settled for mediocrity. If you pair Nike’s “Just Do It” and the Malaysian “Lah” it actually has very different spirit in it. “Just do it only lah” – my motto these days. And then I get jealous seeing other people churn out blog posts after blog posts of humourous and great writing, pictures after pictures that tug at my heart, and generally, living a heck of an exciting life. I hit rock bottom when, guess what, I see people taking The Sims 2 so seriously as well. They created beautiful, creative and ingenious objects and mods; they have intricate, or at least, quirky storyline for their towns; they have passion. Compared to them, I Sim in shame.

No time for all this lah – my motto again. Funny statement, coming from someone who has six months to do her FYP, no classes and an (temporarily, I stress) abandoned freelance stint.

I believe in balance, like a paralysed tight-rope performer does.

Oh dear, I’m talking way beyond my age. I’m only 21, for goodness sake. Am I gonna write emo post like this for the rest of my life? Nah, at this rate, I’m most probably going to quit blogging at the age of 23.

In truth, there will always be work that needs to be done, money that needs to be earned, loved ones that needs to be taken care of. I could balance it before, why not now? What am I afraid of? Too little eggs in the basket again? To hell with baskets. And to hell with eggs. Get some balls instead.

80 percent heart, 20 percent talent – that’s what you need to sustain what is precious. Thank you, Szetoo. I wish I’d asked you sooner, though.

eeep.

My expectation for tomorrow range from zero to 249,657.

One part of me wanna go berserk and die with anxiety (I’m very dramatic on paper; in reality I just wanna laugh hysterically in my seat). Another part of me forgot that tomorrow I’m going for a new job (a part-time stint in a PR firm, thanks to Jolene’s recommendations ^^). Well, not exactly forgot. But more like the okay-cool-what’s-for-dinner kind of nonchalance.

I’ve never mastered nonchalance.

I’m very good at going berserk.

Don’t mind me. I feel like this everytime I’m going to work/study at a new place. The food sloshes around in my stomach and my skull suddenly shrank, pressing out my brain (dramatic and disgusting; you got a Sweeney-Todd-wannabe here).

The anxiety, for what its worth, is actually kinda fun.

Not too much of it, of course. Else I’ll look like a zombie with deformed head suffering from severe indigestion. But it’s exciting and nerve-wrecking at the same time to meet new colleagues and work in a new environment.

The previous job experiences that I had were fruitful. I learned tremendously and met some really great people; a few of them my cherished mates now. Yes, there were dramas, complaints, screw-ups, the deep-throat-bellow of “LIMEI”, and the si-poon and calot jokes, but looking back, it was all worth it. It made who I am today.

So, wish me luck for tomorrow! *Go berserk*