The Meaningless Post

I am just your regular guy trying to handle things that cross his path every time he wakes up from bed early in the morning. Or late if you think waking up at 9am at times is not early. Every morning, when I stretch myself awake, I think about the many things I could be doing today. Going out for breakfast, hanging out with friends, going out for lunch, enjoying the evening hanging out with friends and doing sports, have dinner at home and spend the night surfing the net and playing League of Legends. That would, of course, be ideal. In reality, however, this would be a dream. A dream that would never come true.

But, that is life. Life is not kind enough to let things go the way you want it to be. Life would just laugh at you as you try to get on with your day. The moment you make a mistake, life laughs at you. When you stumble and trip, life sneers and spits on you. When you eventually give up from a seemingly impossible task, life guffaws at the look of you throwing in the towel.

But, that is life. Life is never good to anyone because life does not have a heart. It is a force. It is a force that would make you suffer and only rewards you with a consolation if you managed to overcome the obstacles it decided to throw at you. Your consolation would be a happy sigh and the next day, life just throws you larger obstacles.

And yet, there is nothing we can do about it. If you were to sit in a shopping complex, say, Sunway Pyramid and just take a look at the general crowd, yes, you would see smiles on people’s faces as they traverse along the path that life takes them. You would see the many emotions that are known to man, be it a happy face or a downcast face. My question is how many of those people donning the happy face are genuinely happy in the inside? How many of them are actually contented with life? You might argue with my premise by saying that the rich are contented. I do not think so. In fact, I believe that it is the rich that are the unhappiest of the lot. Well, of course, my generalisation would be the categorisation of the human class as poor, average and rich; the poor being those who are just barely surpassing every day.

Being rich does not mean you are happy. Generalisation of the premise that being rich means happiness will be delightfully countered when we look into the details of their lives. One sees a whole lot of taxes, expenditures and work hours that complement the fact of that person being rich. And that is not all there is to it. One has to be in the rich man’s shoes before one has the right to assume that being rich means being happy. Of course, I myself, am not from a rich family (I pride myself of being in the middle of the poor-average class, a fact that I intend to change in the future) so my inference to my premise might not be entirely accurate.

But, the main point is not that. The main point of my subject is life. The force that binds us to the Earth and it is the reason why we are all still walking on the very ground we walk on every day. When I talk about life, I look not just at the people around me but the people around the Earth. I turn twenty in the year 2012, and while I have yet to travel around the globe to understand the lives of others, my own opinion reaches a conclusive generalisation that life of Earth’s residents are about the same wherever you are. The toppings may differ but the essence and the concept sums up to be almost similar.

We are all human. All of us deserve an equal right from the moment we are born. Take note that I said ‘from the moment we are born’. That particular phrase stands to change the moment we are able to think for ourselves and act the way we see fit. And that is where the point changes. That is where humans differ with each other, as was the case of the toppings in my previous analogy. We each have our own definition of life, each of us pertaining to the ideal that we proclaim ourselves. Nobody is wrong about his or her ideals and yet, nobody is right at the same time. Each person’s ideals vary and it is not up to one to prove it wrong, claim it wrong or condemn one for one’s ideal. Then again, the world would be living the dream if everyone were to agree with each other’s ideal and raise no arguments about it. As I mentioned, life is not that kind.

Controversies are born. Arguments are presented. And the way of life is questioned. The upper echelons of each country hold debates with one another to discuss, refute and to further solidify their own argument over where they stand in the subject of life. While I do not follow the ideals of another, I find it intriguing to understand what each one has to say about life. For each opinion, an argument is born. For each thought, lies a certain truth about about life, something that we tend to miss out at times. As I mentioned, I do not follow. I listen. I listen, understand and relate the ideals of another with my own.

And yet, the conclusion on what life really is can never be drawn. It is an unfinished work that can never be finished by man. What is life? What really is the meaning to life? Do we live today, so that we can die tomorrow? Do we live out lives, just because living is an obligation set by whatever unnatural forces in the universe? We will never know. What we do know is our very own perception of life. 

When I began to write this post, I was in my office, feeling a little bored from the lack of work. At that point of time, I had almost everything in mind to complete the post. There just was not enough time. Now, I am finishing this work at home, free from the working hours but the thought has dissipated. What remains are the remnants of my thought at that point of time in my life. I can never go back to that thought as it begins to lose itself in the void. What you are reading are at best, my thoughts at the point of time where I actually focus and bring my thoughts into life. 

I digress. 

So, at the end of it all, it boils down to the each and every perception one has on life. No one is in control of another person's life. Not when one's own life requires all the self-control one can muster to ensure the continuity of that life. As I write the previous sentence, I think about the ending I can give to this long and i think, almost meaningless post. Do I end it with my perception of life? Do i give yet another tantalizing paragraph on what life is about? 

I shall end it with this. 

Life is not up to one's expectations. 

Life is a force of its own. 

Life plays with you and your only way to get through life is to return the play to it. 

Hence, the end of this post. 

The Journey We Took Together, Even When We Are Apart

This post is dedicated to my father, who as of 3/8/2012 at 12.15pm has moved on to the next journey where I would not be following. These are my immediate thoughts and the words are mine alone.
Hence, my epitaph.

When I first heard that my father had cancer, it was during the middle of my A-Levels A2 examinations, right before, what would have been at that time the hardest paper of my life, Further Mathematics Paper 1. Naturally, I was shocked and was emotionally unstable at that time. Taking several factors into consideration (my father has never drank nor does he smoke or take drugs whatsoever), this was really a surprise. To make things worse, it was tongue cancer, or commonly known as oral cancer, one of the most dangerous cancers in the world. I wouldn't go into much detail over what transpired after that. Of course, there was the scans, the reports and finally the decision to undergo an operation to remove the affected part. Little did we know that it was not the end of the fight.

It took a while but when his condition showed no signs of major improvement, a further scan showed that the operation had not removed all of the cancer cells. The cells had struck another part and this time, operation was not an option as my father was already so weak. What do we do next?

The next few months after that revelation was a struggle for him. How would you go about eating when you know that contact with the affected part(the tongue) would aggravate the cells? Still, he kept on staying alive, a true fighter. He might be emotionally unstable, or very weak or unable to talk but it did not matter as he kept on going for the months.

Right before my first year Mech Eng course final exam, i received news that even the second chemotherapy had failed. More critical options were brought up but with my father reduced to fighting with his withered body, how much suffering can he continue to take? There were talks of another operation but in the end, it was decided against due to his weakened body. After my examinations, i returned home from Semenyih to remain near to my father which was for the past two months.

It was not easy. Food was the main concern apart from his steadily weakening body. He was reduced to taking liquids but even that was causing him so much pain. While at home, I witnessed pain seizures occurring as he struggled to remain in control of his body. The pain I felt as I watched him was no where near the intensity he must had felt as he still, strongly, gripped on to the string of life.

A few people has asked me, " Was his death expected?". To be perfectly honest, I myself have no idea. My father was still a fighter even in his condition. I had expected him to stay alive, alive to witness me come back from my 1 year exchange in the UK. I didn't once, had the thought of him leaving so fast. I was always assuming, that with all the fight he had, he could battle it out with the cells and miraculously, emerge victorious.

This is getting a bit too long for an epitaph. So, screw calling it an epitaph. This is more of an account.

Today(3/8/2012), I received a call at around 12.30pm from my mother that my father was in a critical condition. We had not the slightest clue that he had already moved to the next journey. When we reached his ward, it was to see his body fully covered with a white sheet. I stopped breathing at that moment. The man, who had been fighting for so long, finally gave himself to God. No. He did not gave in, his spirit was still strong, it was his body that could hold on no longer. Thus, he passed on to the next journey, the one journey where I can no longer follow until it was my time.

Am I taking this fine? No. Am I accepting his death? No. Do I have the strength to face this? No.
I am not taking this fine. I am not accepting his death. And NO, I do not have the strength to face this.

But I must.

It is not for me to decide whether I should or should not. The responsibility is now mine. I have to take this like a man. I have to accept his death. I must have the strength to go through this. My father does not wish for me to be a nervous wreak of a human. He would have wanted me to go on with life. Mourn as you should, and then continue your life. I quote my friend "You are part of him and that part of him still lives in you. Life through this and grow up to be the person he wishes to see, the proud son, his proud son." He has left me a legacy, a legacy I should keep and a legacy I should retain. However much the mistakes he has made, however much the words he has spoken to me, it is something that i must remember. I am the son of my father. The journey we took together, even when we are apart is not something that I can simply let go. It is engraved in my memory.

I sit now, in front of my laptop, composing this account, trying as hard as i can, to remember his last words that were spoken to me. And even when his last words were not coherent, it was his last words to me.

This is not a farewell that I am saying to you, my father. I do not wave goodbye to you, not when I am still breathing, not when it is my turn to board the next train. This is au revoir. Wherever you are seeing me, remember. It is not the actions i took, but the thoughts that I carry with it as I go on with life. You may not be in this world anymore, but through me, you will see what your son has for you.

Chang Ching Wei

Where Despair Became....True Despair

I wonder how long it has been since I decided to update my blog. An update done not by any of my alter egos but an update done by myself. The me that I try so hard to not fall back onto. The me that has all the weaknesses which I despise. The death of the previous 'me' was a warning that I had reached a zone of no return, a point where anything that goes wrong, will go wrong and that nothing I do can possibly rectify it.

How right I was.

Here I was, trapped in a bubble of illusion I conjured to rid myself of all the pain I would encounter. Here I stood, wondering when it would be safe for the bubble to burst.

Well, the bubble burst.

But not because it was safe. But because there was NEVER a safe time when the bubble can burst. My life has been shrouded, not with lies, but with baseless assumptions, cruel deductions, horrid assimilation of unaccounted pain and never ending torments.

Rich words. Exactly what a senior person would expect to see from someone of my age. The rambling on how you are always right and that the rest of the world was wrong. However, I would like to counter that thought. I prioritize the truth over everything else. Truth spoken, by each and every person, I would take notice of it and work myself to abide to that truth. Even when the truth is painful..even when sometimes, the truth kills a small part of myself.

But even then, the rebellious part of me denies such truth at times, as would how a normal living human of my age should act. But then again, to some I am not a living human. I am something else. A worthless pile of shit would have been an astute way of labeling myself, but that is not how the world is currently appraising me. The world is crueler than it seems. It sets out to cause pain and despair for a higher cause. There is no calm before a storm. There are only storms before a slight calming of the self before the storms resume the ravaging of your soul.


I live, if i am living at all, a normal life. Of course, recent events have caused many problems to arise but each of them I could endure. Tears were shed, blood was spilled but still, I never once looked at that hanging rope that has been inviting me seductively in recent times. There were just too many things in life for me to do that I could overlook that dangling piece of rope. After all, why should I even bother to take notice of it? There is absolutely no point in myself dying, not when there are others who I would be so glad to plunge their heads through the nook. 


But, no. 


Not once had that thought crossed my mind. Figuratively speaking. Committing suicide was never part of my repertoire. It would require a forced-move, or a case where I was in a serious zugzwang position, to ever make me consider such a performance. After all, if death is indeed the next journey, i would have to wait for the current journey to be completed. 


You might be asking yourselves..what is the purpose of you giving such a long introduction, if it indeed is an introduction, to a blog post which oscillates around the premise of despair? Why let us know something that we all know teenagers would have? Why let us know what is natural? Because, however natural it is, we tend to forget what is most obvious to us. We tend to ignore facts that are right in front of our eyes and because our vision is clouded, conflicts began to form themselves. 


And with that, I shall allow the curtains to slowly reveal the very essence of life that was me. 


I am at peace with despair. 
Or at least, I was. It has been quite a long time since I began to accept despair as a source of strength. Acceptance of despair as a beacon of strength came with sacrifices. Sacrifices which involved removals of emotions which I should have kept.

I was at peace with despair.
Despite knowingly throwing away certain emotions that were supposed to keep me sane, I knew despair would be a strong source of energy and spirit. I was wrong. The despair that I received, I could not assimilate. I could not turn its very essence into a lifeforce which I could use. I was lost. Because the despair I got was not just true despair, it was a despair that brought forth regret. Regret was something I could never get used to. Be it the regret felt by others or by myself, I could not bring myself to embrace regret. I felt despair, my source of energy, slowly fade away.

I began to lose a pillar of strength.
I used to be able to take the despair welled up within me and turn it into something positive. I used to think that with despair, I could go through anything, that I could stand up against anything that would come my way. How very wrong I was. The despair that was being channeled to me was not something I could take and make it into a sturdy brick which I can build up my defense. Instead, it turned out to be as corrosive as poison. Slowly but surely, despair was corroding me inside until I'm but a shell, no longer human. I could not bring myself to reveal emotions as I could normally do. I was a husk. But, there were strings which I still managed to cling on. Strings which defined my sanity.

But the strings were thinning out.
As I observed the strings, it was taking the strings(three of them to be precise) all they could to rein me in. There was only one string, a pale blue string, that was still held fast but the others were not looking good.  One of the other strings was jet-black and every now and then, defragmentation of that string would occur. I could no longer hang on to that string. But I could not let myself go. Another string was bearing a weight as an additional burden apart from reining me to sanity. However, the weight was superficial, filled with nothingness, an illusory weight which was heavier than what it was meant to be. I could not rely on just strings to pull myself from the world of insanity. I needed a way out.

There wasn't any.
I was forced to rely on those strings, however sickening it may seem for me. The precarious balance which I have been forced to put myself in. Repulsion was all I had. And yet, I was still drawn under obligation to abide by the law the world has created.

And I am slowly running out of patience.
There is still time before I decide to let my other personalities be the dominant character again. There is not much time...

I guess we must all make sacrifices...when the time comes.

Chang Ching Wei

I Am Become Death

I watched as the dark clouds gather ominously in the sky, the groans of wanted release of the rain as the droplets squirm inside their cage. The sun that was shining brightly a while ago was reduced to a gloomy dim, threatening to be extinguished. The flowers that grew in the garden so neatly kept, drooped lower and lower, the leaves turning brown, signs of life ceasing. I stood at the end of the ridge, drinking the sorrow in, heaving a sigh as I knew what has become.

I enter civilization and watched as the citizens hurried to their destinations. Each of them donned a black suit, an unpleasant sight like one you would see in a funeral. Even the children were dressed so darkly with matching black sneakers, silently making their way through the crowd. I stopped at a coffee shop and ordered an iced mocha. Closer observation revealed the bags beneath the waitress's eyes as she served my drink along with a black book for my perusal. I recognized the book.

It was wrapped in black but that was just so that the original black cover of the book was not tainted. The wrapping was merely a copy of the what the cover should have been. It had a silver scythe in the middle, the blade soaked with the darkest of red that was human blood. I recognize the book not because of the cover, nor the dark void that the book seemed to emit. It was for a simple reason.

It was his book.

This was the book that had most of the ideas and thoughts that he had wanted to eliminate or never wanted to see ever again. It was a book only he and I could have access to.

A flash of lightning, followed by a roar of thunder as the rain was unleashed. A young boy cried in his mother's lap as the sound, no doubt, shocked him. I slowly drank my coffee as I read the book. Outside, the rain continued to pour.

I reached the final written page of the book. The lines that covered the page were heavy and its weight pulled on my heart. At the end of the last sentence, there was a quote.

"I am become Death. I will be the scythe that cuts through the soul.

I will be the recorder of the final moment, the piano that plays the final note, the air that takes the final breath. I am become Death"

Right on cue, as i finished the last word, there was another flash of lightning. This time, the thunder that followed was unlike any other that came before it. It was a roar of grief, a howl of pain, a cry of despair. The young boy let out a scream of pain as he failed to shut out the noise in time.

And that was when all hell broke loose.

First, the sound of breaking glass.

Then, the dropping of the boy's body on the floor followed by a gut-wrenching shriek by his mother.

Next, came the choked scream of the waitress as she clutched her face in horror.

Then, the sounds of cars colliding, the uprooting of the trees, the ripping of papers, the demolition of buildings, the splitting of the earth.

It all happened in a matter of seconds and I was too stunned to move.

Too stunned to even notice the ceiling falling on me.

There would be no better time than this to wake up and brush it off as a dream.

But this was not a dream. This was reality.

The turmoil that is about to happen is real.

The scythe that was once shackled, unused, now burst into life.

The reaper that lay dormant, has awaken.

The final barrier has collapsed. The box has been opened.

He has come.

He has become Death.

HD

The Undefined Darkness

*****HD*****

I walked aimlessly around the busy streets of the city, aimlessly I said but in fact, my mere perambulation was but a way to remove the worrisome thoughts that clouded the entity of my mind. I looked at every building, every vehicle and every human that walked past me. I looked at the layout, the infrastructures that stand so proudly in the heart of the city. As I witness a few tourists eagerly snapping photos at god-knows-what, I blot out the thoughts in my mind.

*****CCW*****

I followed my mother to the hypermarket today, obtaining the items I required to be brought to my room in my uni. As I waked, I observed the happy, sad and angry expressions that were on the faces of the people that walked past me. And then, I saw my own face. There was nothing of that sort on my face. It was lifeless. Eyes without the slightest sparkle. There was neither a frown nor a smile. There was no wrinkles of anger nor depletion of eyebrows to portray despair. There were only dark bags underneath my eyes, an empty shade for eyes, an emotionless facial expression. I looked dead.

*****HD*****

I was offered a brochure by one of the promoters in the shopping mall I had decided to trespass on. I politely declined and continued on my aimless stroll. I catch sight of kids running around and screaming, oblivious to the world, ignorant to how life can change in just a snap of fingers. A small boy nearly rammed into me as he laughed at being chased by his younger brother. I looked at my watch. A few minutes to midnight. I heaved a sigh and exited the mall. Driving back in the night was not going to be a pleasant one.

*****CCW*****

I felt a sharp pain as I drove back in the night. I was slowly picking up more speed as I shifted gears, overtaking car by car. 90..100..110...120....130...140...i was reaching the 150 mark on my old Honda City when I jolted to my senses. I calmly stepped the brakes and slowed down before stopping at a traffic light. I took a deep breath and gazed into the night.

This is only the beginning of another chapter.

But it was the never the end of the previous one.

This is only the stage between the folds, the calm before the storm, the ripple before the wave.

But the pain is there, and so is the determination.

This is the only way forward.

But I will not back down.

Dark Return

Previously, i was in the middle of posting something but failed to conclude it because of the turmoil that was going within myself. I could finish it, but the feeling was not there. I guess, a blog post is something you have to finish within one attempt and not leave it for next time.

I concluded my first semester of Mechanical Engineering in the University of Nottingham Malaysia Campus with a not-too-nicely done semester exam. With a heavy heart, I headed back to Subang Jaya, with hopes that this Chinese New Year would cheer me up(There were other issues left behind in Semenyih but more of that later).

I was wrong.

When I return, a storm had just came and went. I received two shocks which undeniably, were very painstaking. The lesser shock was that two of my friends who were mere friends(i believe the astute term here would be 'friendzone'?) got together whilst I was having my exam. I shall put an end to what I have mentioned on the shock as the bigger shock was far too shocking that it instantly robbed my entire being of being happy to be back in Subang.

It appears that my father has contracted something worse that what he had overcame. The third stage. With modern medication incapable of dealing with the problem, we turn our heads to traditional medication, in the hopes(high hopes) that it works.

And i thought flunking exams would be the biggest worry of my life.

Despair.

Only this word could fit the emotions that swirled in my heart at that time. I was at a friend's house at the moment I received the news. There was nothing else that pained me more than this. I was depressed for two whole days before forcing myself to pick up myself and maintain a calm front. I viewed my options and reached a conclusion.

I have to go on.

There are times in life where one can be sad. This is not one of those times. Not yet at least. And I hope the time for that does not come any time soon. I do not believe in praying but if there is a God, then I pray that for the prolonging of his life. If there is an ounce of hope left, i'm not giving it up. And so does he.

As I close the chapter of that case, not permanently, but just momentarily, I heaved a sigh. Life doesn't go the way you want it to go. There are obstacles around, investments to be made, challenges to be accepted, problems to confront and pain to acknowledge. As long as despair gives me strength, I know I can push forward.

HD is on a hiatus as I take matters into my own hands. Relying too much on one side is not going to make things easier. From now on, I walk alone, with inspiration and help as a catalyst not as my backbone.

CCW

Humans..

I watched his slumped figure as he hurries with his dinner and rushes upstairs. I sat down as I looked at the carnage he escaped from. A woman speaking with logic, annoying logic but containing utter truth that is irrefutable. A man, sitting motionless at the dinner table, bearing a pain, on the road of recovery, but doing little to improve his condition.

I sighed as I left the house. I looked up at the sky and smirked at myself. Such a stereotypical way of starting something. As I continued my perambulation, I paused as I composed my thoughts.

Humans.

The race of humankind cannot be simply categorized into groups. It is a race filled with ignorant, foolish people who do not put their weight on what is right, but instead, what suits them more. They punctuate their pain with grunts, anger with grumbles, despair with sighs. Nothing more, nothing less. Only those with minds of higher intellect would step forward to share their problems.

'A problem shared is a problem halved'

When humankind came up with that phrase, I would assume that they would at least try to abide to it, despite the obvious flaw in it. Unfortunately, a phrase is ultimately, just a phrase. Not everyone has the initiative to do so. They cover their implications with utter silence. They keep the problems to themselves. They bear the weight of their pain by themselves, never realizing what family...and friends can do for them.

I stopped at the big hypermarket that was erected grandly a few years back. People stream in and out of it, carrying goods, their pockets lighter. I looked at the faces of the people. I see happiness, emptiness, despair, even pain. Humans are indeed a peculiar kind. They shield themselves behind a facade of lies, comforting themselves ineffectively, never understanding the true meaning of recovery.

I carried on my night stroll.

I stopped at a field where I see a mosque and a secondary school. The school which educated many students, many of which have become successful. The school also has its dark history. Its history of delinquents, but for its worth, stood proud because it has found the solution to its problems. What about the other people that I've come across? Most of them have secrets and problems kept within them, unbeknownst to their family members and friends. To what end would they carry on this shade?

I notice an elderly man, walking leisurely in the neighbourhood. His face was calm, full of serenity. As we passed each other, I could see that despite the calm outlook, there was deep pain in his soul. I do not know what has transpired but it is this sort of facade that the humans have in their daily life.

Humans are not totally foolish and ignorant. They improve in time. For better or for worse, it is not the case. It is the determination that makes humans live on. Until Death meets them, they strive on, never giving up, struggling for whats worth.

And that is why I stand by humans.

HD