I need an outlet of some kind.

And then I remembered I still own this little corner of the world to rant in.

*sigh*

I had so much more to say when I booted up the laptop. Now it's all gone.

I'm sorry.

I had a dream.

...But no song to sing.

As it is, it has been a rather hectic three weeks.

I am so tired. I am stressed. I need a holiday.

I need some loving.

Worth.

Do not underestimate the value of a 10 minute encounter.

Spending time with someone for whatever amount of time... Most people don't realise that the qualitative nature of a meeting is of far more empirical importance than the quantity of it. You could have 3 hours with a person that turn out to be unfulfilling, dry and turgid.

Or 10 minutes with someone that could change the very way your soul feels.

Are we so caught up on quantity now? Does spending more time with someone, really mean that it is time better spent?

I've thought long and hard about this. I've thought about what it means for me to be able to see someone and to spend time with them. I've considered all of this in the context of my own issues, and my own demons. Of my own insecurities and my own anxieties. Of my own history and my own checkered past.

I would rather have ten minutes with you. Than 3 hours, with anyone else.

Hmm.

I thought the disappointment and pain would be over by now.

But it still hasn't subsided.

I think I'll write about the Yayasan Sarawak Debate Championships when they're actually over. The final is still on Wednesday (13th October 2010), so I'll hold off whatever it is I have to say until then, about it.

On to lighter news and happenings.

Socialising during a debate tournament is always fun. Granted, of course, that the company is suitably agreeable and voluntary in terms of participation. As it is, and thankfully so, many were during this tournament. I know that this sounds quite elitist, but there is nothing that incentivises conversation more than the promise that it will be intelligent, humourous and far-reaching. And that is more often than not more likely to occur during a debate tournament.

Naturally, nobody at a debate tournament is going to be a an idiot. They ARE in a debating environment after all. The laws of natural selection (well, debater selection committees, at least) dictate that a higher quality of conversationist is bound to make it through to the celebrated circle of interaction that forms during tournaments.

I have had the fortune of meeting some truly interesting people, and getting to know people whom I thought I knew, even better. Win-win all round, eh? More so than the debating, this is probably the best part of any tournament. Going somewhere with your friends, and coming away with new ones. Bonding with those that you have shared experiences with. Sharing collective anger when things are definitely stacked against you (more on this later).

May these new friendships last, and the old ones get better :)

'Cause you're amazing. Just the way you are.

Patently, Bruno Mars is singing about a girl that does not exist. A pretty/hot/beautiful girl will have been told so many times that she is, that it would have been embedded into her subconscious self by then, thereby rendering the argument that she wouldn't realise it, impossible.

Unrealistic depictions of romance are commonplace in songs, after all. But I digress. Because at least one line is true in it. Some girls really are amazing, just the way they are. And I despair at the fact that they don't realise it's okay to just be yourself.

I have seen many people in university that seek to fit in by becoming different or caricatures of who they really are, just to be able to socialise and get along with people that they deem worthy of their social interactions. It's one thing to adapt yourself to your surroundings. It's another thing entirely to invent a persona that would seemingly be better for aligning yourself with certain social circles.

The tragedy, of course, is to end up being in a situation whereby you don't even know what's the real you anymore. The question is, has the mask become the face? Or is the face now the mask? The circular argument in this context just ends up driving people away from what would conceivably be their true selves. Is that what we really want? Is that what YOU really want?

This is usually a result of someone hating who they are, due to the supposed barriers that it poses to new friendships, dalliances or interactions. To say that it is sad is an understatement, on par with saying that Hitler's invasion of Russia in winter was merely 'a bit stupid.' By all means, be more outgoing and be more engaging. That doesn't translate into becoming an entirely new being that bears no relation to the old one.

People forget, that there are lines that they needn't ever cross.

No one ever said that finding a place within the complicated schema of a university is going to be something easy. Nothing worth it ever is. But what it definitely is, is simple. And that's not the same.So don't take the easy way out. Don't make the tragic mistake of becoming someone, or something, that you are emphatically not.

'Cause you're amazing. Just the way you are.

Enterpise Systems Management

So other than the obvious fact that I should be concentrating in class right now, I find that my mind is wandering.

Sighs. The curse of having an imagination that refuses to stop.

I like this lecturer. She's nice, and she's always very cheerful and positive. Her favourite phrase? "Don't need to worry so much about this subject ah, I will always try to help you ah.." Haha, she repeats it at least twice during any class we have with her. I would hope that would mean giving me an A even if I don't do any of the assignments.

There are some dreams that are just too far, though. Hope springs eternal.

As it is, I find solace in my imagination, and the worlds it brings me to. These worlds usually have an absence of a moral code that would keep me from killing people that piss me off, and would reward my retribution with the satisfaction of seeing my lightsabre/sword/laser cannons, totally annihilate whatever poor sod who has managed to upset me that day.

Naturally, such action would be impossible in today's world, because there is no such law that prohibits people from being assholes, pricks, bitches or idiots. So this is what I propose.

There should be a law that allows anyone to kill a person that is acting in a manner detrimental towards cordial social relations. Signs of such a person : 

1. If male, they like Twilight.
2, If female, they dye their hair blonde in the hopes that it makes them look more 'stylish.'
3. They begin every social interaction with a look of cold disdain.
4. They look like Edward Cullen.
5. They look like Bella.
6. They have the misfortune of looking like Taylor Lautner.
7. They grind their teeth in every sentence, like Taylor Lautner.
8. They think that using words like 'awesome' all the time makes them cool. It doesn't, you just sound like a prat trying too hard.
9. They still think that iPhones are cool.
10. They think that iPods are cool.
11. They think iPads are cool.
12. They think Steve Jobs is a genius. (clue : he's a prat, and a very weirdly dressed one at that. Now that you mention it......)
13. They think Steve Jobs looks cool in a turtleneck. He's just hiding the hickies he gets from Apple fanboys.
14. They try to sound intelligent by regurgitating someone else's argument, or offering up random facts without understanding what they mean. Wake up, morons. Intelligence != Knowledge.
15. 

There are more, and I do realise this law needs more refining. But this is a good start.

I could have been sleeping instead.

I was wondering about a lot of things today.

Love, life, the Universe and everything.

And then I realised I hadn't finished watching all 3 seasons of History Channel's The Universe. As geeky as that may sound, and I'm glad it does, I really need to find time to actually finish going through it. I am aware of the impossibility of me becoming an astronomer, astrophysicist, or even the coffee brewer at NASA or indeed the ESA, but that doesn't stop me from being completely and utterly in love with space.

The full moon these past few nights has gotten my imagination running mad, and the lofty dreaming that it inspires tends to render me a rather despondent creature, wishing he could actually go up, above and beyond. Oh, don't get me wrong, it's not an outpouring of emo-ness wishing that there is more to life than the existence that I ponderously endure on a daily basis. It extends much further than that, into the realm of a genuine desire to see more of the not just the world around us, but the place it inhabits in the grand scheme of things.

I do realise that this is a theme that I continually go back to in my writing. The idea of adventure is a romantic notion that always gets the heart racing. Or the head thinking, dreaming, digesting and analysing.

Fly me to the moon. It's okay. I don't need to find a way back.