The Road Not Taken

I wonder sometimes who came up with the whole need for formalities? Why do we need to dress a certain way, to write stuff using certain choice words, to behave in a certain manner, and to some like myself, to “turn on” this whole other persona that befits a particular type of situation that calls for it?

People who know me well know that me wearing formal attire is something very rare, and to some people, think it’s something that never happens for me. But yet, there are situations that call for me to dress formally, much to my dislike, simply because it’s what people expect you to be like. It felt a bit artificial to me, because I was pretending to be something I’m not. I’m usually quite informal and casual, and to some extent sometimes callous, because with some people I feel comfortable being that way and sometimes I expect them to just “know” that I don’t mean ill but rather it’s just how we sometimes usually talk to one another. But situations change, and suddenly, it becomes inappropriate and we have to become somebody else, to adapt to this new situation that requires a whole new “you” that really isn’t “you” you.

Yet, this whole need to behave in a certain manner is so embedded in many of us that the lack of it in a setting we expect this formality to take place sometimes just feels a bit inappropriate, much to my surprise when it hit me recently. I realised that my dislike for having to be a certain way that I usually don’t like to associate with, is something I am starting to appreciate now that it’s not there anymore. It’s yet another one of those things where once you don’t have it only you start appreciating it. It’s sad, but it happens.

Thankfully sometimes there ARE opportunities for a do-over, although they are never so easy to accomplish. But I guess if you really want it, sometimes these troubles are worth it. The whole, suffer now enjoy later mambo jambo that we have all been brainwashed into accepting as facts of life.

Sometimes I wish life wasn’t so complicated. We could just make simple choices, and have simple consequences, and live happily ever after. Maybe that’s why people invented formalities. So there are these set guidelines that hopefully everyone follows, and everything will work out properly and we’ll all live happily ever after.

Dang!

Choc Choc Chip

Antarctica Clip

I have yet to seek comfort from ice-cream whenever I feel sad, yet it’s something you find common in the stories you read or watch. And it’s usually of people eating straight out of the pint/tub to add to the drama. Does ice-cream really make people feel better? If anything, wouldn’t it result in you gaining weight, and thus feeling even more depressed at your weight gain, and then you eat more ice-cream, and the cycle keeps on going?

Sometimes, I will never understand why we as human beings continue to do things even though logic tells us that keeping it up will only bring us harm. Perhaps we’re all just hopeful beings, all risk takers who have this big idea that it’s all going to pay off if we just suffer now.

The mysteries of human beings. No wonder aliens find us so fascinating that they’re always coming to abduct us. πŸ˜›

Count On Me

Just finished watching the latest episode of Eureka, and as interesting as the show may somewhat be, it’s beginning to get a little too predictable. You can pretty much bet that a central recurring character will somehow get involved with the incident-of-the-week that may result in serious injury or death, which they of course survive unless it’s a season finale in which they don’t to add to the suspense and salt to the waiting-for-next-season wound. πŸ˜›

Have you ever thought about predictability and dependability as being similar yet different? They both imply that someone or something will react in a certain way as they always usually would, yet somehow their connotations are different. You’d think better of someone who was “dependable” as oppose to someone who was “predictable”. In most cases, calling someone predictable meant that person was boring and has nothing better to do. And in most cases, calling someone dependable meant that person will be there at your side when you need it. So what if there’s someone out there who has nothing better to do but wait for your beck and call 24/7 just in case you need his/her assistance? Is that being predictable because the person has nothing better to occupy his/her time, or is that being dependable because the person will definitely be there for you *because* that loser has nothing else to do?

Why does being predictable feel like a bad thing to be? Do we need so much excitement and newness in our lives that every single time it has to be something different? In that case, should we not have dependable people who we can count on every single time, since that would mean the same old boring reliable thing over and over again?

Why oh why do I have to spend/waste my time thinking about such nonsense things. πŸ˜›

Straying

I think sometimes being swept away in the moment is a dangerous thing, because you let your guard down to the point that you’re not aware that something terrible might be heading your way. Then again, if you never let your guard down, you’ll never really be living happily anyways seeing as you’ll always be on the lookout for imminent danger, even if that never comes for you.

When you hear from people about their dramatic lives, do you ever wonder whether the drama was self-created to some extent? I mean, you kinda need to be at the right place, at the right time, doing the right thing, for that to happen, don’t you? In some way, everything happens indirectly because of your influence or actions, so who’s to say that maybe people who live dramatic lives live dramatic lives because they make it that way? It’s that whole self-fulfilling prophecy in action, that you bring it upon yourself and you honestly can’t blame anyone else for it because, you control your own life and your own thoughts and views and opinions on things. That’s why the same incident may be spun into a big ass thriller, while to others they may just go, “meh.”

I think we’re just all living in consequences of our past mistakes, and that we get to where we are now because of our success and our failures. In other words, you need to succeed and you need to fail to get somewhere, because idleness, neutrality, and numbness is just about the most annoying thing ever. Everyone always talk about taking risks and reaping its benefits when it turns out alright, but I sometimes think that even if the shit ends up hitting the fan, that if you can see the silver lining, everything is going to turn out alright as well.

This is just a rambling post that is indeed filled with a lot of buried gold, if you know what I mean. Sorry if I’ve become quite wordy. I would post pictures, but then I’d need to start taking pictures. But I guess it’s easier to just write a bunch of bull just to get things off my chest, eventhough it may be random garbage that ultimately may not mean anything at all. Sometimes I just feel like talking nonsense, and I guess when I don’t have anyone to unload all this onto, my poor little blog is the next best victim. πŸ˜›

ζˆ‘δ»¬ζ˜―εŽζžœ

Heard a very interesting story a couple of days ago regarding some interesting analogies the people from a local chinese newspaper uses to attract potential clients to advertise in their newspapers, this case in particular my friend’s company who currently advertises in English newspapers. Note that the company has a Chinese majority staff, which is how this incident could occur.

It may seem strange to some people, but it’s quite common here in Malaysia for Chinese people to not be able to read, write, or even speak Chinese at any degree, myself being one prime example although in my defense I *am* able to read, write, and speak a little bit here and there. I have always known all along the non-derogatory-but-comic “banana” label attached to people like me: yellow on the outside but white on the inside. Yellow synonymous with Chinese skin, and white being English speaking.

I’ve heard it being used so many times that it never occurred to me to wonder what other types of fruit analogies out there, until the story of the “mangoes” was told.

What are mangoes you ask? Well, they are the non-banana Chinese. The ones who are not only yellow on the outside, but yellow on the inside as well. In other words, what that chinese daily refers to as the “real” Chinese people who CAN read, CAN write, and most definitely CAN speak Chinese, in essence the type of people who subscribes to their newspaper. It was interesting – and rather courageous – to hear how the reps from tat chinese daily could insinuate that only true Chinese people aka “mangoes” are more helpful towards their own community where as the “bananas” only know how to look out for our own selves.

Furthermore they go on to say that “bananas” are very confrontational unlike “mangoes” who know how to jaga muka / save face and will go all out to help one another without question. They keep going on referring to themselves and their fellow “mangoes” as the 华人 (Chinese people) like as if we “bananas” are not, and I think it’s just a very “racist” thing to say eventhough they’re making derogatory comments about their supposedly own kind.

I don’t feel offended by it, because I am generally not offended by racism or racist humour. If anything, I think their small-mindedness is quite entertaining, and I honestly do not feel confrontation as being a negative attribute to have because you’re standing up for what you believe in and not being a submissive drone as part of a larger dictatorship regime.

Some people look down on Chinese people who can’t speak their own language because they feel like it’s disregarding their own cultural heritage, but sometimes we can’t help it that we’re brought up in an environment filled with English speaking people and have parents who are English-educated and sent us to study in English and BM medium schools. This is Malaysia afterall, where Bahasa is placed more importantly followed by English. But I guess that’s another problem, when the country you are a part sometimes regards you as an immigrant and not its own native eventhough you have direct connections to it and not to the “home country” where your ancestors came from. Oh well. We don’t live in an ideal world, do we? πŸ˜›

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On a lighter note:

CheNeo: Did you know that English-speaking Indians who can’t speak their own language are called “mangosteens”?

Me: Hahah isit?

CheNeo: Yeah. I wonder what are Indians who can speak their own language called?

Me: “Rotten mangosteens”? πŸ˜›

Racist Little Me

Was chatting on msn when I came up with this little racist joke.

Q: Do you know what the “s.w.t” in “Allah s.w.t” means?

A: Sweat. That’s why people go: Oh my god =_=”

Okay, I’m gonna go and print my AirAsia eTicket back to hell… oops i mean back to KL. πŸ˜›