A new year, a new you?

I'm terribly sorry for interrupting another part of my highland trip, but this festive season calls for a few blog posts of it's own. It feels fresh today, like there's new hope radiating through the blinds of my room as I woke up. Something that I haven't felt in awhile, probably because of the endless monotone of a life I lead. It's a new, enthusiastic feeling you get when you're nervously waiting for something you know? Aw, what the hell, who am I kidding? I practically slept through last night, while everyone was out there partying all the good-will out of themselves.


Rolling in my bed, I stared stiffly at the clock, the digitally presented numbers "23.00" seemed to mock me endlessly. " Why aren't you out partying like the rest of your friends, huh? You big wuss " he seemed to say in his hillbilly tone. All the more reason I love smacking the top of him every morning. I didn't sleep well that night, waking up periodically in the middle of the night at the mocking tone of my clock. Damn, I should get out more.

I believe I speak for everyone when I say "It's 2012 already"? Why do I feel that time is moving faster and faster as I grow older? It's as if the essence of time itself is seeping right through my very fingers, never to return, never to be relived, never to felt again. All the more reason I should live everyday to my fullest! In fact, it's all the more why we should all live our lives to the fullest, instead of fussing over the things that never matter, things that get us all tensed up. Life's too short for that.

After reading a few pages of "The Happiness Advantage" by Shawn Achor, I realized something. I've much more to learn, and that I should never stop learning. Shawn's book tells us about his revolutionary study that goes against the society's mindset, especially us Asians. We all believe that after we achieve success, then, and only then, would we achieve happiness right? I mean, who wouldn't be happy when they have tons of cash and fame right?


Well, it seems that our dear friend Shawn has proved that it works the other way around. That successful people aren't always happy and that those among us who are happy tend to succeed more. A brain teaser, wouldn't you say? It goes against everything that society has brought us up to believe. Then again, since it's the new year, maybe it's time to inculcate the change we've all sought after all this while.

Maybe it's time to change.

Anyways, I hope this year new year, brings more adventure for everyone.
Happy new year :D

Up high in the Highlands (part 2)

The road was long and winding, much like how your earphones magically tangle into mess whenever you stuff them into your pockets. Early into the run, most of us guys would have overtaken the girls already. They tend to run in a tightly packed group, finding their resolve in numbers, honestly, who could blame em'? Lamp posts come far and few in between, giving the road a sort of malicious atmosphere.

With every step I took, I couldn't help but let my imagination take the better of me, thinking if dark and hair-raising figures hiding in the bushes beyond my vision could reach. It was scary really, running in the dark like that. But after 11 days of going through the same road, I've actually grown quite fond of it, other than the pitter patter of my feet and my heavy breathing, there was utter silence. I really felt like I was in a world of my own, where I could run endlessly without obstruction.

That road took us from our apartment in Brinchang down all the way to Tanah Rata, with two routes to choose from. A leisurely 3km stroll, or the gruelling 5km path. Tanah Rata is as the name implies, a level ground area where there's a field surrounded by a stretch of road. Where one lap would equate to a fair distance of 700m. I'd usually reach there at around 6:30, when the sky was still quaking in the absence of it's sun. One stretch of the field had a river to it's side. The trees stretched along that river were beautifully decorated with illuminating lights. Like millions of fireflies in the light.



There and then, I'd do my workouts every morning without fail. It was especially hard for me to keep up with my friends on the first day. The thin mountain air and blasting winds, seeped the very energy out of me, forcing me to pant heavily as I did my usual laps. Even so, the chilly temperatures up here allowed me to run longer, as my muscles wouldn't overheat easily. Back in KL, I'd fry like a fish doing workouts like this. Fortunately, the temperature up here proved to be abit more comfortable once my body warmed up.

This regimental way of training and working out lasted for 12 days, with a couple of days break in between. What's more, the training session would often stem off into another session in the afternoon, allowing us only 3-4 hours of rest. Which, in my book, was hardly enough. These legs were crying by the time we headed back to the apartment.

These chicken legs.

A jolly intervention.

First of all, allow me to wish all my dear readers out there a very Merry Christmas. The festive season always brings me a sense of nostalgia as I remember my childhood days when I used to celebrate Christmas running around with a bunch of friend setting off Pop-pop's at each others feet. Even though I'm celebrating this Christmas season by doing my usual runs and relaxing at home.

*sniff* *sniff*

It still feels good to see that everyone is pitching into this joyous occasion. Eager as ever to usher in the new year and with it, a new start.

As the title implies, this will be an intervention of sorts, an interruption if you may. The parts of my Cameron Highland trip will be broken by this post, as I feel the need to express my festive feelings. Worry not, the story of our trip to the highlands will follow shortly after.

Hopefully, they'll have a laptop and some internet for me there in Singapore.
Until then, Merry Christmas :D

Up high in the Highlands. ( part 1 )

"Beep, beep, beep, beep..." rang my monotonous alarm clock. Though it wasn't very loud, to me at that moment, it sounded like someone rattling my head with thousands of wind chymes. It mocked me, the words "05:00" glared unforgivingly at me, blinking on and off, just waiting for me to twist my body myself enough to turn it off. With much effort, I slammed the top of the clock with much content, silencing him for the next 24 hours. I sat up, my eyes heavy as sandbags, tempting me to slump back down into my slumber. I peeled away from the temptation. " Wouldn't wanna be late " I whispered amusingly.

As I awoke, the rest of my room mates were still sound asleep, hardly even stirred at my blaring of my alarm clock. 4 prone figures on their beds, sleeping like cows. I grabbed my towel and a spare of pants before fumbling across to the bathroom. Every step took much effort. Exhausted from a few days of training, my sore legs protested like well... protestants. To make matters worse, the wooden floorboards under my feet forbid me to take heavy steps. Imagine that, I had to wake up at 5 in the morning to ninja my way to the bathroom.

Even though the water that I showered with was warm and soothing. A chilling bite would soon follow once I got out of the bathroom. Often, I'd just sit down on our bed and shiver until my trusty body generated enough heat for me to feel comfortable. By now, most of the other athletes would be up and running as well, quietly arguing as to who would take their baths first. No one wanted to be late. No one wanted to wake Sir up as well. Especially since his room was oh-so conveniently located next to the bathroom.

After consuming a light breakfast, I'd put on my socks and head downstairs. With 50 well muscled athletes crowding to head down the narrow apartment stairwell at the same time, it proved to be yet another challenge. Along with the fact that some chatterboxes couldn't help but bring up some topic regarding milk. Come on, another more sensible time please? Once out in the clearing, I'd plop my bright green running shoes down and unstring them. The cold morning breeze would greet me as I stringed them back to my feet. My jacket seems so thin.

"Morning."
We'd repeatedly say to each other.

We would do some light drills, running around and prancing on our feet to loosen our stiff muscles. Nobody likes spraining an ankle this early into the course. Even with all these people gathered around, we'd be silent. Our mouths hesitating to speak at the cold bite of the morning's breeze. He need not say a word, for we knew, that when Sir walked towards us, it was time to form up and ready ourselves for another day.

"Take care of yourselves when running."
He'd say every morning.

Shortly after his reminders and encouraging words, we'd be softly singing along to the with our rhythmic voices to 'Negaraku' and our school song. Our soft voices seemed to echo into the dark sky, bringing forth yet another unforgiving cold chill of wind. With courtesy, the female athletes would head out first, followed shortly by the boys. From the faces that I saw, it was evident that we weren't looking forward to what was coming.

Our morning run.

Homecoming.

It feels great to be home. The familiar sights, sounds and smells all fill me with a great sense of comfort and security. A sense of security that has been missing in me for the last 2 weeks. As I hurriedly unpack 11 days worth of dirty laundry, my droopy eyes long for a good nap, it feels like years since I've had one. I piled the dirty clothes high, just enough to keep the basket from toppling over. The smell of sweat against clothe wreaks the inside of my nose.

With an armful of toiletries, I climbed the flight of stairs towards my bathroom. It easily felt like I was climbing Batu Caves herself. My Calf and Hamstrings screamed bloody murder as I inched painfully slowly towards the bathroom. Turning on the heater, the rancid smell of gunk from my body reminds me once again to scrub extra hard once I step inside the shower.

For now, my fragile body requires rest, but I assure you, stories galore once my mind recovers!

Away.

Running up and down my empty house, I started to list down the things I'd need to bring. " Clothes, towels, soap, tissue paper, Dad's super-awesome jacket...." Such was the situation for an hour today, me frantically rummaging through the drawers for clothes, folding them into cute little sushi rolls and stuffing them into my rugsack only to see them magically unroll themselves. Sorcery at it's best I tell you.

It's a mix of excitement and dread, it is. Excitement because I've never done this before and this is probably the longest time I'll spend away from home, and such suspense really spices everything up. Dread in a sense that I'll be leaving the comforting comfort of my home, hot shower, my eager dog, my comfortable bed and of course, my lovely parents and grandma that spoil me o' so much.

Two weeks seem like a long time to be spending away from home. Two WHOLE weeks up there in the mountains where the air is paper thin, and the water supply is freezing cold. It sends chilly shivers down my spine just thinking about it. *BBBBrrrrrrr....* And to anyone who reads my blog regularly, rest assured, lots of stories will be told when I get back.

Now, I'm not someone who likes building suspense, but when I do...

Little boys, like I used to be.

There it was again, that incessant scratching on my door. I peeled my eyes open from my slumber, twisting around and rubbing my back against my comfortable bed. " It's too early for this. " I mumbled. Now they were fumbling the door lock, turning it left and right, making a harsh sound of metal against metal. " Ugh..... " I thought. " Not again." And so it went on, from scritchy scratches to more lock fumbling and door banging, I finally decided not to sleep anymore.

"WHHHHHHAAAAAATTTTTT?!!"
I yelled, and they ran downstairs, laughing.

And so was the situation for the past 3 days, waking me up early in the morning, stealing my precious Vitagens, nagging me to unlock the computer, turning off the shower heater in the middle of my bath, and countless other devilish misdeeds. My cousins were nothing short of spawns from the depths of annoying hell. Wherever I turned or whatever I did, they were never far behind, fidgeting and pestering me for requests that I never even knew existed. They even scared the shit out of me by grabbing at my feet and making loud monster noises when I was off guard. Damned childhood fears.

I've been trying to take up reading, quietly retreating into a comfortable bed with a good book tucked between my fingers, but I've been having none of these few days. Yesterday, the moment I laid down on Mother's comfortable bed, Yong, the younger of them both came in and showed me no mercy. He bounced up and down on the bed, rattling endless questions at me. Mocking me with his sarcasm and quick wits, telling me that reading is for nerds.

And as he walked out, I sighed with exasperation. Mother say the look on my face and said with a comforting tone:

"You used to be just like that, you know?" and she left the room.

Pondering with what my mother just said indecisively, I came to a conclusion. She was right. If my cousins were spawns from hell, I'd definitely make a good candidate for Overlord when I was younger. At that, I softened towards their childish acts. Even more surprisingly, I laughed at their jokes and pranks while playing along with them. It astonished me how differently I thought of them when I looked at it from another angle. The angle of a playful, childish, care-free boy, just like I used to be.

Oh, what I'd give to be like that again. I'd trade all the Vitagen.

Boys on her fingers ( Part 3 )

For that week, I slaved over this project like a hapless dog, bent on fulfilling just one purpose. I called many of my artistic friends to lend a hand on the matter. They were more than pleased to help me out when they heard it was for her. Soon enough, the ideas that were floating around in my head seemed to materialize right before my very eyes and VIOLA! it was done. Larger than life, I sighed in relief that the project was done, finally ready to be handed over to her.

I was nervous at the very thought of handing it over to her, pulse racing, palms sweating, the works... I hate to admit it, but my brain has a very nasty habit of malfunctioning when I'm in front of the person I fancy. Scumbag brain doesn't know when to work -,-. Finally, it was delivered to her, safe and sound. That night, I was finally able to sleep contently, well in the knowledge that I did what had to be done.

Now, I'm fully aware that it's only good courtesy that when one gives something, one wouldn't expect anything in return. But when someone slaves on something that demands so much time and effort, the least you'd expect is a nice thank you in person. Just two words. I longed for those two words, lying patiently in wait day after day. But it never came, in fact, nothing came after that. Our relationship seemed to draw up a blank everywhere I looked, like nothing ever happened between us, just like magic.

Like a drowning victim, I tried to revive our stale relationship. But alas, to no avail. I might as well have been giving fish C.P.R for all that it was worth. It was like she wanted nothing to do with me anymore. I don't get it! What did I do wrong? Now I know that women were impossible to predict or understand, but this was outrageous and downright baffling! How could a relationship so real and meaningful now seem so misty and far away? For the fear of me, I could not draw my courage to ask her.

Drowned in my fruitless worries, I stuffed my face with my usual meal of mixed rice at the school canteen. That's when he came, strolling in that stylish manner that he normally does, for now, let's call him Cake shall we? Cake noticed how down I've been lately and knew immediately what was wrong. He jumped right into topic, telling me the truth behind what's happening between me and her. God damn, where are all these sorcerers coming from?

And so, Cake explained to me about what's happening. Turns out that she's been like this all along, and towards many different guys as well. I cock my head in a questioning manner, expecting more of an explanation on the matter.

"Look man, you don't need to understand."


*sigh*

And so, it came to be that I never actually figured out why she does what she's doing, her motives were as unknown as the edges of my history textbook. It nudges at the back of my head sometimes before I fall asleep, pushing me to find out more. But, with the help of some supportive friends, I finally realized that this was a question that I'd never find the answer to, this endless-nes was probably how she keeps the boys coming, line after line, all waiting to be showered by her affection.

Like a puppet master, she was strangely able to manipulate boys into doing her bidding, into believing that she was interested in them when she wasn't, like a game that she played very very well. Well, this ex-puppet is cutting himself free, no longer bound by your whim. Who knows? I might actually meet someone who appreciates this puppet's hardwork (:

Boys on her fingers ( Part 2 )

Facing the dilemma ahead of me, I was granted a very difficult choice, as to whether I should listen to my heart or let my logic get the better of me. " Go ahead, she's been so nice to you, when will you ever find another girl like that??!" bickered my emotions. " Wait, wait, wait! Look at what's happening! Can't you see? She's too good to be true!" reasoned my mind. I was interlocked in an internal commotion with myself, fussing over this situation and throwing my choices back and forth.

"I'll wait and see" said myself, firmly.

And so I did. I waited and watched. As I did so, I could've sworn I heard my heart yelling back at my logic's reasoning " See! I told you there's nothing wrong, now you've made us waste so much time! " And yet, there was still this nagging doubt that seemed to slither in my conscious. There was a certain uncertainty that I had to clear in my head, and I couldn't do this alone. I needed resources, I needed information,

I needed to do my research.

So I set out, being as incospicuous as possible, I brought her up in topics of conversations with other people in class. Casually, I joked about other girls as well to make it sound as if I wasn't the least bit interested in her. Though nothing was apparent at first, there seemed to be a definite air of undoing about her. Conversations seemed to stutter at the mention of her name, like there was something..... unrelenting about her. Something that others knew, but took it at heart no to speak about it.

Gradually, others seemed to have caught wind about my feelings for her and teased me about it. I put on my best poker face and shrugged the topic aside whenever it came up. I had only let the intention of my true feelings be known to a handful of people, how could it have spread so fast?! I guess there are things faster than the speed of light, like how rumors and gossip spreads across the plains of our school grounds.

Of course, a chance had to come up. My friends were teasing and pushing me to do something nice for her, saying that if I really liked her, I'd be thoughtful about it. Being the submissive sucker that I am, I conjured up a plan, oh yes, a master plan! Something that'll make her so happy and glad, that she'd feel guilty not to shower me with her affection! It was all rough and sketchy at first, but soon, the ideas materialized and off I went!

Boys on her fingers ( Part 1 )

There was something different about her, no, in fact, there were many things different about her. Things that caught my fancy, and inevitably, the fancy of other boys as well. The way she walked, poised with both grace and confidence.... No! Simply terming it walking would be a definite understatement! The way she talked, gentle, yet firm at the same time. I never thought such a melodious voice existed amongst us, it rang in my ears with an everlasting resonance.

"The voice of a siren" I mumbled.

Needless to say, I fell head over heels for her. She utterly and completely dominated my thoughts for that period of time. She was the first thought that materialized in my head when I woke up and the last thing I thought about before I drifted off into a sound slumber. We texted. With every message I received from her, it felt like a gift from the Heavens themselves, I treasured them like my life depended on it.

She made me feel special.

The cards and gifts that she sent me made my heart skip a beat. Her handwriting seemed so flawless, the letters and words seemed to curve and twist elegantly on the piece of color paper before my very eyes. And with each gift I received, I eagerly gave one in return, in hope of a new gift or note. I had to keep the momentum going, for her givings made me feel like never before, they made me feel wanted and important. Like I was someone amongst the 7 billion who populate the face of this Earth.

As the messages and gifts piled high, I pondered as to whether I should be get intimate with her. I consoled some close friends of mine, and they all encouraged me, pushing me along, trying to get me to make the first move. But somehow, right before I could muster up the courage to do so, I stopped, dead in my tracks. Something didn't feel right, a constant, nagging thought at the back of my mind kept ringing.

It was as if my mind tightened that leash around my heart before it could make the next move. As my heart struggled and thrashed against the pull of my logic, he yelled and demanded for an explanation. Demanded an explanation as to why I couldn't make this act of intimacy. At that very moment, it dawned upon me, all the pieces that were scattered in my memory. Logic said :

" She's too good to be true."