It’s been 9 days into the new year, and I’m exhausted already. I should be doing more things, like savoring the last few weeks of being a teenager?

I’m not a self-hating Asian. I just don’t want to be stereotyped.

Renaissance Man

Pen on old paper
Mind over matter
No amount of old terms and hackneyed cliches
Find the words to express my talented mess

Six arms and five eyes
Can’t keep up with life
So many situations craving my attention
Except the gas’ all out of my engine

Here a French mound
There languages for Deaf
Heaps of linguistic manuals piled on high
I’ve waved sanity and liberty good bye

Refrain:

People call me the Renaissance Man
Look at what you’ve made
All your creations immaculately done
Yet I know I’m a jack of all trades
And ultimately a master of none

Half-finished sketch art
Flutes from music marts
We strive for greatness and gain sweet mediocrity
Why then are we still plagued with jealousy

Can’t leave it behind
Won’t find that free time
Driven to accomplish numerous things in life
Constantly neglect to do ourselves right

Refrain:

People call me the Renaissance Man
Look at what you’ve made
All your creations immaculately done
Yet I know I’m a jack of all trades
And ultimately a master of none

Put down those papers
Shake off them shivers
Step outside the tinted door and breathe
Freedom covers all our basic needs

Skills for all skills’ sake
A thirst I can’t slake
Stop aspiring, take it slow, and cease
This incessant race like the busy bees

Refrain:

People call me the Renaissance Man
Look at what you’ve made
All your creations immaculately done
Yet I know I’m a jack of all trades
And ultimately a master of none

I’m a normal man.
In a quiet land.

Watched (500) Days of Summer. Then took a walk around campus. By that I mean AROUND campus. From the parking lots to Fine Hall to Garden Theatre to Rocky. It was interesting…

I’m happy with what I’ve got, but stuff to get out, there’s still a lot. (Lame attempt to rhyme here.)

The number of awkward moments in one’s life is proportional to the sociability and times the subject goes out.

The number of awkward moments in my life has steadily increased, and I find myself not regretting it. I think I’ve gotten rid of what’s wrong “with my funk,” as Michael Scott would so eloquently put it.

So I’m reading I Love You, Beth Cooper right after reading Neil deGrasse Tyson‘s The Pluto Files and Jesus, Interrupted by Bart Ehrman. The quality of the books I read is deliciously varied.

That said, the former book is not really for college students to read… Its writing is probably at a sub-10th grade level.

I found out my cousin’s maid (full-time, taking care of their daughter) is 18. It’s really sad, she’s from Indonesia, and comparatively, this is already a pretty good job in Malaysia where the pay is higher and there’s more to do eventually. Education… is truly needed in many third-world countries so that people do not have to resort to this.

Why is it that I never look forward to seeing my family, but I always look forward to seeing my friends?

The answer, truthfully, is simple. Every time I go back, I’m reminded on how much apathetic my family has grown over the years towards each other, how so very uncommunicative everybody is, and how un-fulfilling Ukiah is. In Ukiah, I always have the feeling that something’s wrong, that giving each other the cold shoulder is something that has become the status quo. No matter how hard I try to change things, nothing changes. I feel like Sisyphus – constantly rolling that boulder up the hill only to watch it crashing down, vaporizing all progress. (Though hopefully I don’t have quite the same level of evil deeds to my credit as he did…)

At times like these, I honestly have to say I really look forward to getting over to Princeton in September, and forgetting about those things which are too late to alter for the better. I really thank everyone I know outside of Ukiah – at Princeton, and the co-staff members at CTY – for keeping me sane and happy. It’s this that allows me to be joyul and still live life the way it’s meant to be – with a mind of hope and exhilaration.

“It’s just teh tarik under a weird name,” insisted my dad. He seemed doubtful that Kuching‘s famed beverage would prove all that different from the favored drink nursed by so many in West Malaysia.

I set out to prove him wrong, by ordering it one dinner – Teh – C – Peng. The very name is odd, referring to the distinct three layers the beverage has: teh for tea, C for the condensed milk, and peng for the ice. To be honest, I wasn’t quite sure whether my wish to prove him wrong would backfire at all. Might it taste the same?

Actually it didn’t! It’s far sweeter than teh tarik, and it also has a different flavor all its own, with some hints of cappuccino for some reason. In any case, I’m definitely going to look for this drink when I return to the mainland, though it may be a fruitless quest.

On a small hill over looking the valley of the town in Rinau (somewhat near the mountain of Kota Kinabalu) is a memorial to the 2,000+ Australian and British POWs who perished on the death marches from Sandakan to Rinau – a distance of over 250 kilometers. The Japanese soldiers were exceedingly heartless and brutal in their treatment of these brave soldiers, and for their courage and perseverance in the face of such inhumanity. Unfortunately, all but six of them died before the Japanese finally surrendered.

The sad thing, however, was that many visitors to the gardens were disgustingly rowdy – screaming and yelling, clambering to take pictures of themselves (accompanied by the now-ubiquitous peace sign) by the plaques and flowers, seemingly uncaring for the fact that this is a place of somber reflection on the depraved things humans do to one another and a site where hopes for the betterment of humanity may be made – sincere wishes that never again will such atrocities be committed.

To so flippantly treat such a hallowed groud is to callously disregard the valiant sacrifice these soldiers made for democracy and freedom.