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.