I Made It.

Honestly, I feel like deleting every single post I wrote for the past five months.



Success is sweet, though watching your closest, truest friends and comrades fall most definitely isn’t.

Theirs is a solemn reminder of the grave consequences of not having made it through.

Theirs is a bitter reminder of the human costs behind the thick cold faces of ruthless academicians who trump the “standards” flag.



Where most expected —especially coming from me, of all people— is the relentless gloating and praise of all the wonders and joys of life, there shall be none. 

This seriously isn’t at all funny, or worth celebrating for.



I am lucky to have just scraped through, to have saved a brand new Gen.2 and twelve additional months to repeat two subjects.

These were perhaps the two most expensive marks in my life.

Days and Nights

   
Despite what the unending stream of dark and solemn posts would suggest, life has been… fairly good to be honest.

Haven’t had the want/urge/need to drink for what must be close to one and a half months now —so much so that I have decided to use my allocated allowance for alcohol for a tub of protein instead!

I have been eating well, sleeping well, working out, drinking litres and litres of water a day though definitely not studying as well. Strange as it may seem, for the entire past three years, this has got to be THE least stressful and/or pressured pre-exam period I have ever experienced, despite the coming three papers being perhaps the most instrumental in my life.

I feel little, if anything.

Perhaps one day —and one real soon at that if I may add— I will look back at this, and deeply regret my being more concerned with my health/physique than the impending exams, but oh well.

Now I wonder what new is there to watch on Youtube today…  

 

Energized

 
With eyes glued to this LCD and fingers epoxied to this keyboard, I watched as the hours flew by last night.

It was round about midnight when I ended the hour-long call back home.

Then it was one in the morning.

Then two.

Then three.

Then four.

Then, with extreme reluctance, I forced myself to shut the unibody's aluminum lid.

So there I then laid: beneath the moderately thick sheets, in the blanket of silence that was my room, my eyes opened as wide as they could possibly be opened.

I heard my digital watch blurt out one more hourly beep and recoiled in horror when I thought of what time it probably was. 

It was as if only a mere few seconds later that I heard my phone's alarm, and the sun had risen from the night sky, and it was time for class.

A gruesome six hours of Monday classes, with four still to come, but there is neither time to spare -nor time to waste.

Balancing shaft imbalances in the library, with the phrase "I won't go down without a fight" ringing as loudly as it possibly could.

Food

It's two in the morning.

Having had the disastrous Mechanics II quiz we sat for today that I do not feel bad about since none of my peers did it any better than I did, all that is left is tomorrow's Solids II quiz in the evening.

But I'm tired like fuck, and nothing more is going in. I'm not a bloody sponge with infinite-absorption abilities, and my point of mental saturation was already surpassed last week.

Tired though I may be, sleepy I definitely am not.

I am simply dying for something good to sink myself into. A good blog maybe, by a deep, witty and intelligent blogger. A good book that reflects upon humanity and our horrid lives in insightful ways that I never before realised.

I need a good read -one that will spare the mathematical regions of my brain, yet feed the rest of it with the profound knowledge that I would otherwise not have.

I've visited a trillion blogs, I have gone through pages listing hundreds of "good books", I have searched high and low in any and every search-able domain ...to no avail.

And no, I'm not in the mental frame of mind to open the book by my bed that goes on and on about evolution. Thank you Richard, but no thanks. Not this week, and definitely not tonight.

Sighs. What is a hungry boy to do?

Drifter

It's nine pm on a Sunday night.

I have done litte/no studying today. Or yesterday.

Or even, the day before.

The mere mentioning of the phrase "under mountains of tremendous pressure to perform and to pass in 3300" -as well as the other subjects- is akin to flogging to death the already dead horse one more time.

I have become used to living under the mountain's shadow. So used to it in fact, that I do not even fear living in the darkness anymore.

I have so much energy bubbling inside me. There is just so much I want to do. I want to read up on a good book. And then another one. Maybe even a third after that. I want to travel to the other ends of Sydney for example, and get lost. Taking thousands of pictures along the way, and thousands on the way back.

I want to draw. I am so inspired to take up drawing again, my previous 'personal frontier' -photography- having been conquered (veni, vidi, vici so the saying goes) and a certain Andrew having uploaded his drawings very recently.

I want to write. Write and write and write and write. I want to write on a myriad of issues: politics, technology, the stupidity of Malaysians, and -oh hell yeah- you religionists-die-hards and your ever so contradictory and hypocritical ways.

I want to go home. I want to see the people I love. I miss them so much. I want to see real people, not the fake hollow shells that I am surrounded by. People who actually have soul, people who are warm and genuine.

I want my freedom.

But alas, that all has to wait.

And apparently so too will my revision, as I continue being inexplicably glued to this LCD.

Strength

Insomnia strikes again.

In the middle of the night, being too mentally drained to study, and too filled with caffeine to sleep, the alcohol is making little (no) difference to me.

In the 3300 tutorial-cum-quiz today, I for the first time in many, many years, felt what it actually was to be so vastly inferior and sub-standard to a certain 'reference point', so to say in 3300-speak.

It was disheartening, and in that blaze of envy, I felt an overwhelming gush of (negative) emotions.

Yes, I'm certainly not the most gifted tool in the UNSW shed. And I certainly haven't all the intelligence in the world -nor even amongst my peers, for that matter.

Personality wise, well, that's even more of a no-brainer: from the bottom up would perhaps be an accurate description. Oh, and let's not forget the constant emotional outbursts that plague this blog.


But now that the evening/night has settled down, and played itself out, and that the chinks in my ego and the insecurities of my life have all been papered-over and pacified, I can't help but feel how tremendously nice it is to be me.

I have two of the most exceptional people in the world as my parents. I have a warm and wonderful group of close, life-long friends --people that I cannot be more happy or proud to know, or have known.

I am courageous with the things I know and for the things I believe in. I am a formidable combination of good looks, quick wits, and an ocean of depth and a wealth of intellectualism.

Luck, for the most part, has been on my side for the past half decade. And as horrendously wrong as this would sound, I have faith in the future always being a better place than the past.

Truth be told, it's good to be me.

Hell Below Blue Skies

So there I suddenly was again, onboard another Boeing craft jetting south through the massive Australian heartland.

It seemed just like yesterday that I was heading the opposite way -that 400 going ever faster with each kilometer it passed.

It seemed just like yesterday I landed at the airport in the night where my parents were waiting for me.

It seemed just like yesterday that I was suddenly home again, and where everything I could ever want or need was within arm's reach.

It seemed just like four months ago when I reached the flat and entered my room: a place filled with academic struggles and that very familiar feeling of frustration at everything I did.

It seemed just like four months ago when I finished unpacking to realise that beyond the double-digit circle of souls, there is no one, and nothing else for you here.

Engineering Mechanics II though, is unlike anything else I've gone through before. I am truly frightened to bits at incurring another term here that cannot be afforded.

I wonder why such dickheads are lecturing 3300. I wonder wish if there is even the slimmest chance of me passing. I wonder wish if anyone has tried murder doing something.

I wonder at times, why a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to do so much good to me, my career, and my life, has turned into a hellish nightmare that I cannot bear to live with.

Hours After Midnight

Another gruesome 14 hours in university. Another day passes. Another cycle beckons to repeat itself.

Before I plonk my head down onto the pillow and call it a night -something which I seriously need to do- I have this incessant urge to write.

Something deep. Something profound. Something meaningful.

Alas, there exists nothing within this skull but a tired and weary mind.

So I turn it off, and leave as little conscious intervention between my fingers and the keyboard as possible.

I have so many things to say.

I am happy.

I have been so for many, many days now. Despite the frequent, violent mood swings that would suggest otherwise, the unbearable stress and pressure to perform, despite the bastards and the bitches that plague my every living day, despite my moodiness --despite all this, there exists a deep, underlying current of happiness.

Of content, and of hope.

And belief.

Alas, after thirty extraordinary months, I have finally put things back in order.

I'm back.

No Air

It’s a lovely Saturday night: cool, breezy, but not exceedingly cold. The air smells of joy and jubilation. Living it out good, celebrating life, and taking it easy after a long, tiring week’s worth of hard work.

This was made all the more so as two lovely hits from The Eagles played whist I cycled home.

They reminded me of my dad -we spent many Saturday nights together, drinking, having delicious suppers, and driving home speedily through the streets after that.


But for now, that will all have to remain what it is: a lovely thought, and a memory.

Because for now and until this damn semester is through, there will be no breaks, no time to rest, no free slots to live it out good -there will be no joy.

The sad truth is, I HAD to have the phone play something as I made my way through the modestly lit open areas of upper campus --simply because it felt eery to be walking alone in the silent, empty spaces devoid of people.

The sad truth is, I HAD to stay back and do assignments on a Saturday night.

The sad truth is, these days Friday, Saturday and Sunday means not that the weekend has arriveth, but that there are no lectures or tutorials, and that these are the times that I should use to study or finish up the unending continuum of academic work.

'Give me a fucking break!' has never rang so true.

Night out at Coogee

Having handed in all most of the assignments that were due, and as we promised each other, when yesterday night came it was time to go out and "WEEETTT" :D

We headed to Coogee to look for a place to drink and chill after dinner. I must say; I had a HELLUVA good time!

Oh yes, this for the tourists for sure! =D

Thats the pathetic McD that closed by the time we finished our drinks, which was before midnight *rolleyes*

Flags... big flags that hang proudly <3 you hardly get to see this back home =/ That Johhnie Walker --as lovely as it was-- was a drink too expensive to buy a second! 

Where it started off pretty overly controlled and quiet... but when these rounds started to kick in...

...everyone was getting happier! =D

And having had so many rounds, our friend started to say "who cares!" 

Alcohol does many things to many people, but this was the first time I've seen it make someone powerful! =D

Of course pictures do lie, and what was actually going on was far from a bossy scene XD

And then of course there's this:

Writing in the Sky

Stolen Days

Coming back to this blog page and reading the previous post makes it sound as if it was just last weekend that I was at the park, but that was actually two weeks ago.

I didn't have a 'weekend' last Friday/Saturday/Sunday. I was slaving day and night, from morning till at least 9pm everyday that week to finish off assignments. 

I worked like a dog. 

I start to think how much easier things were back in Inti, and I actually kinda miss it. This was to be expected I suppose: you don't pay large sums of cash to a top notch uni and expect things to be easy, and still expect to graduate from with highly reputable degree -you work your arse for it! =/

Oh well.

Here are the pictures from the park:

I never knew lying under the sun was such a pleasant thing to do until I came here!

This may be nothing to most people --a task so easy and trivial that no one would even bother mentioning-- but this is me, and this is MY blog, and this to me is a huge achievement: I for the first time in my life used a pan and cooked meat! I actually cooked raw minced beef! =D

So yes, I took a bloody picture of this too! =D

Bondi Beach

So it was Saturday, and having had lunch, the three of us had nothing more to do. So we headed down to the beach (since I've never been there!) and my, was it spectacular!

Sunshine. Blue skies. Blue seas. Breeze. And the sheer power of those Pacific waves! 

Yeah, I really wished a handful of you were really here!!! =(

And this is what we had for dinner: Hurricane's pork ribs. No one should die before eating this, and I'm not joking. It's really that good!!!!

Yes, if it wasn't for the flash blowing out the text on my phone's LCD, it would have read: 'Wish you were here' too =/

Oh well. Today's a lazy day though. Did my laundry, said 'no' to Chinatown, cooked spaghetti for lunch, and then cycled to Centennial Park and lazed under the sun for an hour, then came to the library to 'online'! =D

The Sydney Series Part II

It was Saturday night and no one wanted to be at home (well, maybe it was just me and my housemate, as we still do not have an internet connection).

So out to the city the five of us went (after a long and tiring trip earlier in the day to the other side of Sydney to IKEA). Me and my friend brought our cameras along and had some night shots of the opera house and Harbour Bridge taken.

Have a look:

Kinda impressive, isn't it? But nah. It was really more like this:

If it was in Malaysia, I bet it would be lit properly as brightly as the twin towers.

And the famous bridge looked like this in the night:

...which is a flattering picture of it I must say. Perhaps they're just trying to save on electricity bills?

Oh well. It was a fun night nevertheless. Oh, and the buses here are in service all the way till the wee hours of the morning, unlike the midnight Cinderella public transport back in Malaysia. Nice huh?

I kinda miss home, family, and friends. I'm missing you all!

The Sydney Series Part I

So I'm going to show you 'round Randwick, the suburb we're staying in. It really isn't much, but I guess its a quiet and comfy neighbourhood not too far nor too near (unfortunately) from uni. Yes, I love using the word 'uni' -now that I finally can! Hahahahaha!

Anyway, here are some so-so shots I took the other day on the way to uni. Opps I used the word again =D

Beginning with our apartment's backyard passage:



Through this:

And these: 

And because our apartment is on the third floor, we get to see this on the horizon too:

Though no sunsets unfortunately. =(

And finally: