Saturday, May 31, 2008
How Now Brown Cow?
Right now (actually since months ago), asking me about my army enlistment is like asking an AIDS patient when he/she's gonna die.
It's like asking the virgin Mother Mary when she is going to conceive another child.
It's like asking when the next episode of Family Guy is gonna air.
Like.......... how the fuck would I know? It'll come when it comes. You don't fucking ask Jesus Christ when the end of the world is. Imagine 6 billion asking God when that is. You know you'll just make Jesus wanna quit his job and open a bubble tea shop or something.
Now imagine once every few days, some dude or dudette on msn or someone I meet asking me when I'll be enlisted. Shrinking it to the scale of my world does not seem very overwhelming anymore, but hell yeah it is just as annoying.
You know, I've been talking so much about myself being a musician, a perfectionist. But just a few weeks ago, I came to realise that I am far from being anywhere near a musician nor a perfectionist. I have not been living up to my own words nor expectations. Constant mental reminders have silenced me in penitence, yet I've not put effort in making a change for myself, much like how a desert refuses to rain.
I have a problem of making more problems for myself.
Being a proclaimed "perfectionist" - that is one of them. Up till now, I have no qualifications in a minimal music theory grade. No diploma. No other musical qualifications. All that I have left to fall back on right now is my 'O' Level Cert. Sure I'll still be able to live with that, but barely.
Another problem would be that I give myself huge gigantuous goals.
I remember in Secondary 4 before the O Levels, I said this to my mom, "I will give you 'A's for every subject except my Mother Tongue." And I got 24 points for L1R4. And 33 for L1R5.
And I remembered that sometime in Primary School, I promised my mom that I will grow up to be a millionare and I will feed the family and give my each my parents 20% of what I earn. And now I pull a fucking bullshit stunt like withdrawing from Ngee Ann Poly. And for what? To chase a dream blindfolded? Time and again I ask myself, what the fuck am I doing. But I can never find an answer to console myself.
Though I said that millionare thing to my mom in a joking manner (still in primary school then), I meant it down to every letter.
There is a recent HSBC advertisement I think. It goes something like :
Dreams never die.
Goals never die.
Hope never dies.
HSBC never dies.
Some crap like that. Though being a load of pig trash, the words being said in the ad did inspire me a little.
With a situation like mine being half the severity of pessimal, yet with a desire that never slips below an extramundane ardency, I still need a push to set myself back on course.
I need to start working hard.
But my laziness has opened a loophole for me to sometimes doubt this extramundane ardent desire that I keep speaking of.
It's like asking the virgin Mother Mary when she is going to conceive another child.
It's like asking when the next episode of Family Guy is gonna air.
Like.......... how the fuck would I know? It'll come when it comes. You don't fucking ask Jesus Christ when the end of the world is. Imagine 6 billion asking God when that is. You know you'll just make Jesus wanna quit his job and open a bubble tea shop or something.
Now imagine once every few days, some dude or dudette on msn or someone I meet asking me when I'll be enlisted. Shrinking it to the scale of my world does not seem very overwhelming anymore, but hell yeah it is just as annoying.
You know, I've been talking so much about myself being a musician, a perfectionist. But just a few weeks ago, I came to realise that I am far from being anywhere near a musician nor a perfectionist. I have not been living up to my own words nor expectations. Constant mental reminders have silenced me in penitence, yet I've not put effort in making a change for myself, much like how a desert refuses to rain.
I have a problem of making more problems for myself.
Being a proclaimed "perfectionist" - that is one of them. Up till now, I have no qualifications in a minimal music theory grade. No diploma. No other musical qualifications. All that I have left to fall back on right now is my 'O' Level Cert. Sure I'll still be able to live with that, but barely.
Another problem would be that I give myself huge gigantuous goals.
I remember in Secondary 4 before the O Levels, I said this to my mom, "I will give you 'A's for every subject except my Mother Tongue." And I got 24 points for L1R4. And 33 for L1R5.
And I remembered that sometime in Primary School, I promised my mom that I will grow up to be a millionare and I will feed the family and give my each my parents 20% of what I earn. And now I pull a fucking bullshit stunt like withdrawing from Ngee Ann Poly. And for what? To chase a dream blindfolded? Time and again I ask myself, what the fuck am I doing. But I can never find an answer to console myself.
Though I said that millionare thing to my mom in a joking manner (still in primary school then), I meant it down to every letter.
There is a recent HSBC advertisement I think. It goes something like :
Dreams never die.
Goals never die.
Hope never dies.
HSBC never dies.
Some crap like that. Though being a load of pig trash, the words being said in the ad did inspire me a little.
With a situation like mine being half the severity of pessimal, yet with a desire that never slips below an extramundane ardency, I still need a push to set myself back on course.
I need to start working hard.
But my laziness has opened a loophole for me to sometimes doubt this extramundane ardent desire that I keep speaking of.
It's time I did something.
It's time I did something.
It's time I did something.
It's time I did something.
Justin, 00:13