Sub-Atoms of Life

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One of life’s biggest puzzles I muse upon is human’s relentless fascination with immaterial constructs. So intangible yet so indelible. So trivial yet so unsettling, keeping people squirming restlessly past midnight on their bedsheets.

These immaterials act as a blanket of comfort, shielding all beams of penetrating sunlight. Like yelling in an echo chamber, thoughts are magnified, self-reinforcing. Nobody wants to know they’re living a lie. So these thoughts feign comfort and promise that they live tales of conquerors and heros.

In fact, 99% of human dna overlap with chimpanzees. That 1% accounts for abstract thoughts. What allows homo sapiens to write poetry, solve algebra and practice spirtuality and religions. Grind the whole world of atoms, quarks and elements into dust and explicitly show me subatoms of evils or gratitude. We are deluded into thinking that these human constructs are anything but biological processes. They are as real as the person’s conscience believing his or her lies.


Stable Thinking

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Is stable thinking possible?

I beg to differ. Mainly on the premise that fluctuations to our emotional core are evident and recurring. If indeed it is possible to achieve a harmonious plateau set of emotions, then novel experiences are impossible, given that thought patterns have been established. Drug or religious experiences ascertain this claim, as it transcends the thinker to a different level playing field of thoughts, challenging the citadels of conventional accepted behaviour. Moreover, it is virtually impossible to gauge the accuracy of human thought, as it is subordinated to a myriad of influences including human biases, incorrect information and distorted incentives. These influences at most is subjected to different time phases, different waves of public opinions that makes thoughts feel absolutely ‘right’ at the instant.

Stability in thought is superficially attractive but assuming it is possible, that would only imply that the world is riven between rigid dichotomies of right and wrong, relegating all thinking to different status, according to ‘merits’. But truth is esoterically subjective. Since thinking is considered the medium to acquire this truth, thinking would then be redundant as ideas and opinions are marked undebatable. In the same vein of thought, stable thinking would merely imply ignorance and a refusal to update existing thoughts with changing tides rather than an acceptance of truth.

Perhaps, stable thinking in this sense requires a more precise, nuanced definition. Belief systems and life choices are more easily defined, as it is far more personal, harmless and assessing the weights of a life choice in stark contrast to another is tedious work and redundant. Stable thinking seemingly appears to be the exclusive domain for hard sciences in which phenomenon can be deterministically tested in laboratories. Which essentially puts stable thinking to the fore, as skepticism can be accurately tested when validating a statement. However, waves of opinions within the circles of scientists are existent, the burgeoning evidence and controversy of global warming ascertains this claim. Stable thinking makes sense in the short term, but remains obscure in the long term, but this could merely stem from inadequate laboratory equipments, of existing state of technology. Stable thinking seems to be a problem for the social sciences then.

Assuming stable thinking is impossible, disciplines such as Economics would be irrelevant to teach. Any attempt at such education would only be a means for indoctrination. In the standard economics textbook, capitalist markets are enshrined with remarkable fervour, over the insipid Marxism tenets that these staunch Western ideologues eye roll over. It’s intent to provide a grasp, gist of the subject, to teach real Economics, falls short to its overbearing contempt to its fallen opponents that fail to make a page in the Allied forces’ accounts. Subjects like these hide behind the safe banners of being ‘subjective’, begging free from any further scrutiny. They continue to strut with a false earned sense of pride, when they are merely a character of the erratic moodswings of times.

Stable thinking both when understood and misunderstood have deep-seating ramifications. Consistency in thinking, allegedly validated by fresh piece of evidence, would appear to be a modest attempt at framing truth. But there is a possibility of putting best at second best. Just a thought.


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You say tell me
But you think its trivial and petty
Need I say what you want to hear
So you’d play witch doctor to my aches, bruises and fear

You claim to understand
But we’re separated by two distant galaxies
My spaceship stuck in La La Land
Yours lost in the morning mist

But if I do open up to speak
Will you then cower and suddenly go meek
If I knew what prescriptions to take
I wouldn’t have bothered to keep you awake

My hands are tied, I’m strangled
My lips are locked, I’m shackled
It has never been my decision to make
Trust me, too much is just at stake


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I observe that some are quiet in nature, loud in presence. They are the ones people take for granted, deemed as servile servants who unquestionably commit to every man’s order. Yet for generations, they have superseded those expectations, calmly. They are the closet overachievers.

YK Saga Part 1-Been There Done That

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I swear I have issues with early mornings. It was a challenge, having to wake up at 6am on this morning, breaking my flawless track record of bed slumber. I rubbed my squinty eyes, attempting a corporate body posture, flattening out the creases on my shirt, conducting pseudo sound checks to see if my baritone voice was in performance, playing around with my hair. My short sweet time was only to be interrupted by the jerk of the elevator.


22 April 2013 10.12 a.m.

Level 7, Odyssey Hall, Mercu UEM

First of all, I have to congratulate all of you for making it to the First stage of the Khazanah Scholarship. We had a strong tide of a thousand applications coming in this year, narrowed down to the final count of 600.

The lady smiled as the hall of morning zombies joined in to give self-applaud. She went on later detailing on the Extended Disc Ability Test as the paper sheets were distributed across the hall. I was nudged by Teng in the rib, a very unnecessary jolt at these hours.

“Buja, aku syukur gila dapat Khazanah. You know how my mum is kan, ceramah setiap hari. Before my mum balik Dubai, aku kena duduk drilling interview je,” Teng said.

“I miss your family and apartment in Dubai weh. Nanti when I’m rich kau boleh datang visit my hotel suite at Burj Arab”

“Buja, kau rasa privileged tak datang sini. Tak ramai pun budak KYS kena panggil” he continued.

Who else got called?

It was a dying question that I wanted to know. I turned my head to the back, catching a glimpse of the grandiose square hall filled by the hundreds. Fani and Stiffler were catching up. Side note: They make a very compatible pair.

“Anneka dengan Alyaa pagi tadi. Brr cakap kat aku dia punya session esok. Aku tak rasa ramai yang apply, you know, some of us don’t think it’s really worth the shot,” I said to break the hanging silence.

I looked down to the sheet of test papers in front of me, a nostalgic feel wafted throughout the hall. I felt very disturbed. It was after all, second chance. 

                                                        To Be Continued

Pack my Bags and Move On

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Think about it again. When have you let go of an expectation so that you are able to finally breathe comfortably in your own space. Forget all regrets of the past, endless anticipations of the uncertain, let them all go so that you can begin to do your heart’s desires, and set your soul free.

I have been overwhelmed with all that life has laid out for me. I did not expect that today, I would be a walking ambassador, shouldering the burdens of a Khazanah scholar. Much has been expected of me. I knew that the moment this arrived, a figurative ticking clock begins to works its needles, mechanically chiming as the noisy chatters begin. For all that I know, I am not ready to cram my identity into a mould; the charming smooth-talker that wins over the hearts of many, the sparkly overachiever that is spared from even a slight speck of imperfection.

But then again, no way am I in the position, to deny the greatest gift by man, trust. And this trust wasn’t by any, but a corporate giant that has continuously expanded its wings through the skies, an empire built on legacies and successes. As I face my shortcomings, I am reminded again that my existence isn’t to waste. I am supported by a strong system that thrives on passion and a love for what they do. I am unconditionally loved and that is all that matters.

Negativity germinates and multiplies once it has set host on a mind, leeching out happiness and freedom. I am forever haunted by my recurring insecurities, constantly in way to remind me that I am slowly losing myself. That I have blended into and assumed a role never cut out for me. That I am forever bound to mediocrity and no way will I be any better than I am before. If only I could just see that these distractions are solely designed to clutter myself from seeing how much I have grown. Clear skies follow hazy ones. I am waiting for my silver lining.

It is easy to be immersed in your own delusional reality, in assurance of your potential and dominance over the other individuals that exist merely as ‘other mortals’. The question now to pose would be whether they are condemned to inferiority, whether they choose to hide behind the veil or whether they themselves do not see their pearls. I do not have an answer yet, but I believe that we all matter in ambivalent ways.

I wish I could reach out to a person who goes through exactly what I am going through. My heart is broken. Slowly, I feel disconnected, distancing away from everyone I know. I feel a kick inside that tells me I don’t belong anywhere; that I am a lone wolf that is undeserving of attention, communication and love. I quiver at that thought, curling myself in bed as I slowly bleed. Why has god condemned me to such fate? I know that questioning it brings me no further ahead, but neither is accepting it blindly capable of assuaging my pain.

I hoped that at the end of this writing, I would have reconciled with solace, providing me warmth and comfort. I could and would lie by the movements of the mouth and lips to say “Yes I am okay” when my instincts say otherwise, for it knows best what I truly long. For now, it’s time to let go and move on. 

Just a thought

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A blog is famous for being highly targeted into a particular niche. I confess to not being able to do that. My problem is that  I have so many interests that juggling all at once make me superficial. Which is why I am still soul searching for this blog’s direction. And hopefully then I can make your reading experience much enjoyable yet with impact. 

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