progress.

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Hello again.

One month later and I’m posting one of the better bunch of Polaroid photos out of the films I have taken this year due to really low exposure and limited film.

On the look to buy cheaper film less than RM 55.

Patiently waiting for opportunities.

 

 

 

I’m mad about flowers.

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But today is not one of happiness.

It was graduation week in Wisconsin-Madison last weekend and it had slipped my mind. I knew it was May but when you’re not reminded of spring allergies it just seems like an eternity loop of July humidity.

One of my good friends graduated. On this day, I would have bought flowers for a couple of them (who doesn’t like receiving flowers?) — paying it forward to the one time I had received flowers from others as well.

I was a day late to ask her fiancé to purchase some flowers for her — I told him I could Venmo the money to him and was hoping he could buy some for her (again who doesn’t like receiving flowers?) — but the only thing he said was :

” I don’t have Venmo.”

No like “it’s okay I got her flowers” or “sure” or “it’s already passed graduation”. And it wasn’t like her fiancé was a total stranger — I ran with this person on a weekly basis at one point of time around the park.

You would expect someone to respond to you slightly differently after not talking for a few months and is typing this on the other side of the world.

And yet when I offered alternative payments, he just didn’t respond.

In conclusion, I didn’t get her flowers. Part of me thinks whether my friendship with her is worth it considering how cold that message came in.

Or maybe I was the one who came up with a not-so-convincing message to get him to help me. Also this was the guy I asked if I could borrow his car for a year to travel to work as I didn’t want to buy a car that would only be utilized for such a short period of time. You may be able to guess what his response was.

 

If one were to write a sad story, one would be deemed as depressed.

If one were to write a victim’s story, one would be deemed as seeking attention.

Could one write not to gain any sympathy but simply a few words of thought — something to reflect and question?

it wasn’t too long ago, I told a friend to come by to visit me in my home country and I would be excited to take him around since it’s much safer to travel with a guy than a girl solo tripping. What was I afraid of? I hadn’t board the LRT on a daily basis — but I found myself worried for scenarios popularized in the media.

Yet on my train ride — packed and barely any room to move — back home from work with a friend, such scenarios did happen and no one was capable of doing anything about it. It was “barely anything” — a foreign male touching the bottoms of girls and trying to lift up skirts. All my friend could say was “you’re not the only victim” and continued to watch. Nobody stopped him — I couldn’t bring myself to face him– some didn’t even realize he was even doing something to them. Calling him out may provoke him and there was a fear of catching further attention on something that was rather inconspicuous.

It’s so easy to brush it off so long you think it’s “barely anything, people have gone through worse” thoughts. Why was it hard to say “stop doing that?” to his face? Every part of me wanted nothing to do with it but yet I was present with this scenario and force to deal with it.

 

It’s easier to do nothing when things happen and try to just get away as much as you can — but is it the right decision?

Still alive!

It’s harder to procrastinate when your work environment doesn’t allow you to access websites with any login (other than company websites) so I haven’t been writing.

I’ve moved on to another chapter at work; another place to fit in; another challenge to conquer. Some parts feel like deja vu, some are new, but most of it feels constant.

It’s like I moved up a level in my career in Madison and moved down again in Malaysia. My career feels stagnant, like going through a game and never moving past level 1. Just when I think I can move on to level 2, an obstacle will pop up – telling me that I’m not cut out for level 2 just yet.

Even after close to two years past graduation,  it still feels like square one.

A few days before my job begins, I’ve been wondering whether being back here is good.

I still struggle with my purpose. I question my path. I wonder if this is what God has installed for me.

I grieved over certain memories; ones that are not worth hanging on to. Every day I tell myself it’s going to be different, but the words spilled are of hatred and not of consideration.

I hate to say “America is better”. Because it shouldn’t be.

Lawless.

Gone were the methods I learned that I should stop a few inches away from the white painted line before the Stop sign.

“Malaysians don’t stop at Stop signs unless it’s a traffic light”

The stop signs here are placed at U-turns, and there isn’t a need to stop if you have the right of way on a straight road.

Someone’s lights were not on. I was tempted to alert them about it.

“Why are you looking back every time you change lanes; there’s a reason why you have side mirrors”

I rejoice at the difficulties of parking using a reverse camera.


Cranking up my seat, I already had regrets.

When I decided to buy a new car, there were very few things I needed in a car; a Bluetooth for wireless Spotify playlists, a decent horsepower, keyless system.

I was used to the Toyota Prius I had in the States, so I was more geared towards the techie side of a car rather than the potentiality of its engine.

When I drove it out for the first time, I noticed the absence of a middle compartment — a common location where I shoved all my personal things; hidden and at elbow’s reach.

What replaced it was 2 USB ports; no aux cord; and a HAND BRAKE. Maybe it’s a first world thing — I was accustomed to the third foot pedal, whether in my Prius or in my parents’ cars.

The seats used labor-intensive methods to move it about instead of the clickable version.

By now; I sound REALLY SPOILT. But you never realized what’s good till it’s gone — oh how I miss my Prius.

Don’t tell my new car about it.

and it’s 11/1.

Maybe it’s because I’m no longer seeing a pile of snow outside the window that I felt that the year had not passed.

And yet I feel sort of relieved entering into the New Year. I’m starting to move out of “hibernation”, moving to another potential new chapter in life and wondering what’s more to come.

Was 2016 a difficult year for me? I guess it was a difficult year for everyone. You can see last year’s posts have been dreadful in different levels.

I wouldn’t say it was difficult; but it was tough in the sense that I had to persevere. Couldn’t quit on life even if I wanted to.

December has also been a strange month for me; this is where I usually had a romantic interest/fling/breakup towards Christmas time but none of that happened last year — not sure if it’s a sign of adulthood but am actually okay with it; so I guess I’m no longer that hopeless romantic anymore?

My good friends are getting married — and I’m happy for them. I felt like I’ve reached a point where I’m not pressured to be married – not pressured to find someone and stick to evaluating myself each day.

I’m sure I may have said the same things last year — but I can sense a better year for me this year — after all it’s the year of the Rooster — I’ve reached the second cycle of the zodiac calendar.