8.00 a.m: belacan
It’s 4 a.m, I don’t know what to think about. Bedroom dimly lit, my eyes drooping bit by bit.
It’s 4 a.m, maybe I should start drawing again – or I could finish my work, clean my room, maybe ponder on the inevitable fact that I’m not socially woke enough.
Or I could drunk text people.
It’s 4 a.m, what are inhibitions?
It’s 4 a.m on a Saturday.
What do we do at 4 a.m?
boys are dumb as fuck but they cute so is ok.
some boys are smart tho so das G R 8. go for dem. go fo r it
Drunken words etched in my Notes have never been truer.
- People like noise. Noise serves as a distraction to us because we’re all afraid of the silence that it takes to conjure up an original thought or two.
- Laziness is a fucking disease.
- Nobody gives two fucks about you. Self-consciousness is a nasty product of an overactive imagination. Destroy that social construct.
- Questioning authority, questioning religion, questioning culture, beliefs, the system – is normal. Having an inquisitive mind prevents it from idling. Keep yourself sharp.
- Jumping from one sentence to another is confusing and exhausting. Gotta know how to stop and take a breath before you talk.
- Social anxiety. Deliberate.
- When done right, confrontation is a road to closure. That should give you the peace of mind you’re looking for. Stop letting your emotions simmer and get the best of you.
- The world doesn’t like any of us much and it rarely operates the way you want it to. Embrace failure – or at least give it a pat on the back.
- Fear is a bitch. It’s a weak ass bitch that forces you to succumb. The more you give in, the stronger it gets.
- Hearing vs listening: know the difference.
- Stop pretending to know things if you don’t. Asking questions lead to way more interesting conversations.
- All talk and no show makes you a laughing stock.
- Quality over quantity bitches.
- Indecision is a decision – a lousy one but it’s still a decision.
- If all else fails, recognising that our existence is inherently meaningless should provide us with that one last positive outlook in life.
- Lying is the sleaziest thing you can ever do.
- “The deeper you invest in others, the more you lose out on yourself”
- Sometimes you gotta let out your inner Thought Catalogue fangirl. Give her room to indulge a little.
- Sleep. Water. A walk. You’ll feel so good.
- Learn how to fucking manage your time and stop slacking.
- Acknowledge your privilege and stop whining about it. If you hate it so much then use it to give back.
- Social media is disgusting sometimes.
- Everyone has daddy issues, you’re not that special.
- Optimists exist for a reason – similarly, so do pessimists so would you like a refill?.
- Everyone’s a little racist. Acknowledge it. Fix yourself.
Daily one (sometimes two)-liners.
I keep coming back to them. It’s been years. They were there when I was fourteen, nineteen, and now, twenty-three – I just keep coming back.
As I grow older and the more I get exposed to music, the more I start to appreciate it. Led Zeppelin feels like finally being able to absorb your favourite book from start to finish, in its entirety. There are things that will only make sense when you know how to make sense of it.
For one, you get to appreciate the incredible distinction of their playing and the absolutely batshit unpolished rawness they exuded, back when heavy music was just starting to rise. It was different, new, and the combination of Page’s guitars + Plant’s high-pitched guttural wails was almost like a breath of fresh air – if fresh air smelled like thick cigarette smoke, running beer taps and the occasional cold wind blowing. People loved that shit. It was the era of experimentation, the vast divide between what kind of music was accepted and what wasn’t were slowly closing in, lines were blurring and it was exciting because the notion of rebellion often is.
But among all the 6-minute solos, the orgasmic moans Plant was fond of doing on stage and JPJ’s incredibly underrated precision on the bass, the one thing I love about them are the sentimental values that seem to come with listening to them. Of course it would be sentimental. You can fall in love with the music, you can fall in love with the ingenuity that strings these puppets but where is the impact if it’s not sentimental?
Their BBC Session was the first album that I’d listened to – and it makes me remember long drives in the car with my father. We used to drive back to Kelantan (that was an 8-hour long drive back then, mind you) and I’d be in the front seat, picking out which album I wanted to listen to and my dad would explain what made the album tick.
He would give me in-depth explanations about them. Like.
“Jimmy Page was in a band called The Yardbirds with Eric Clapton and Jeff Beck. They did okay music, but Yardbirds was a stupid name, let’s be honest.”
Very in-depth. Very.
I remember listening to Stairway for the first time and I fell in love, much like everyone else did. Completely and utterly in love with the melody – and at this point I realise I’m geeking out over one of if not the biggest rock song in history but you know, I’d imagine other people to have felt the same when they heard it. And being able to play it was my biggest achievement when I was in my teens.
I don’t really know how to end this post. Obviously I’d just spent a whole post gushing over a band that is well over their 60s by now. 70s, maybe? I just have a lot of feelings la.
There was a quote in The Alchemist that goes:
“And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.”
I have this theory that once a person reaches a certain point in their life, the only thing they will think about is their own welfare.
Everything else is irrelevant.
Whether it’s the want to pursue a dream, or the desire to fall in love, we come to a point where we choose to have nothing but happiness for ourselves. What makes us happy? What can we reap from the overflowing abundance of possibilities the world has sown?
The journey will suck, like a big, fat wrecking ball constantly taking a swing at your stomach – nobody said it’d be a breeze but I’m willing to gamble that it’d be worth it.
I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a boat that’s rocking perilously between jagged rocks and still water. Like two halves of the world split in between the wooden planks underneath my feet.
If I could just dip my foot into that clear water…
So the waves will slow, to gently lap the boat and sway it to a steady rhythm.
If I could only reach out and take what I want. I want to be able to do that, because despite the fears I have to overcome, I know I want this.
Self-reflection makes you realise things. Like what you really want and what you deserve; they provide you this sense of comfort knowing that you’re one step closer to this vague glitterbomb underneath the Maldivian blue waters we so-call happiness.
Like a drop of ink in milk, and a speck of blood in flour.
Too pure for the dirty, too dirty for the pure.