By the point I’m writing this on my laptop, I still don’t know what this entry is going to be so you’re gonna have to bear with me. There, I warned you.

Side note, I’m writing this while listening to Billie Eilish’s Everything I Wanted and the thing about her voice in this song is that it drowns me. The first few times I was listening to it (I had it on loop), I actually felt myself sinking and for a good minute I was terrified. It’s weird to type this out, but I don’t know how else to explain it. In a weird way, listening to that song, to her voice, it forced me to confront something in me that I never wanted to. Maybe I was just in a weird place in general, but it suffocated me. Which was why I wrote that poem titled "Your Voice" (now that’s a segue).

Speaking of writing, I joined a Short Story competition under LITSFEST and surprisingly won! The story is titled "Uncle Jim" and I’m not gonna lie, I was really happy with that story. Now here comes the part where I shamelessly brag about what happened in November. I honestly didn’t expect Uncle Jim to get recognized, much less won first place because I figured there must be some older students who also joined the competition. So, when I got the text from the Program Director saying that the lecturer, one of our academic advisors, had chosen my story as the winner, I was delighted. But of course, like any other achievements, it was best shared with other people. My happiness didn’t come from winning, it came from the support and all of the “congratulations” from my friends. I know it sounds like I’m doing things for other people but no. It just feels nice to be acknowledged while I’m doing something that I love.

You know what I love the most? People saying “one day when you publish a book…” That sentence makes me happy beyond belief; to know that someone wants to read what I write, to know that people feel something and can make something out of it, to feel seen and heard and to just be. I keep screenshots of people saying nice things to me, be it about my writing, my blog or something simple like birthday wishes because everybody needs a little self-love from time to time. So, for those who have been loudly or silently supporting me in everything that I do, thank you. I really appreciate you.

Oh, I mentioned about ClairVoyance and the open-mic session during LITSFEST in my last post, so if you want to check out my work for those two, I’ll leave you the link to them (God. I sound like an influencer). “Corpse” is a short story and “2 Minutes” is a poem.

Still on the topic of writing, I also wrote a play for the first time and I actually find it the hardest to write as compared to short stories and poems. But then again, this is my first play and if you happen to be interested to read it (by no means is it any good, there’s literally zero stage direction because I was too lazy to include that) you can ask me for a copy. I think I’m more protective of that rather than other things because it’s new new. It’s a baby. It’s titled The Funeral and that’s all I’m going to say. And give me feedbacks for it or any of my other work if you feel like it. I’d appreciate those as well.

This has turned into a promo…

Going back to the actual topic of this post, I just want to say that words matter. We can use it as a weapon to break someone down, or to build someone up. I have been so incredibly lucky to be around people who are constantly building me up. Not in the sense that they inflate my ego or cater to my pride but in the sense that they are kind yet real and would call me out on my bullshit. Criticism is okay, if it builds you. Don’t get mad at that. And I have to constantly relearn that.  

Maybe it’s my relationship with words or I’m just using that as an excuse here but my dear God, aren’t I stupid? I need things to be spelled out for me cause honey, I can’t take hints. If someone is angry at me for something, I need that person to tell me. If someone needs me to do something for them, they’re gonna have to ask me directly. Because I can’t read signs no matter how big they are or if they are right in front of me. I spent a lot of my years assuming things and misinterpreting actions that now I’m just plain stupid because I refuse to understand them on my own. Say it.

It’s ironic that I’m saying this in my blog instead of to the persons themselves, and that I have so many unsaid shits that I know I would never say. Yikes.

My brain is not working anymore, and I don’t know what else to say after that short rant so I’ll see you when the semester ends (?) for a full-on appreciation post on what had happened in my first semester in Gombak. Stay tuned for that. But, if an idea comes to mind I and I have the time I would probably update something or if you have any suggestions for me, that’d be lovely too.

OH.

I just watched Joker yesterday (spoiler alert?) and I just wanted to say that I think the movie is less about Arthur Fleck than it is about the society. Unpopular opinion, I didn’t like the “monologue” he did at the talk show, I just don’t like monologues in general. I think the message was already pretty clear throughout the story so it isn’t that necessary. But they made up to it by having the host interfere so it became more of a back and forth conversation, I guess. That’s just my personal opinion.

I also read The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka. For some reason the story is quite popular in literature especially when talking about absurdism (I’m butchering this) and I can sort of see why. It’s, well… absurd. The story is about a man who wakes up and finds himself turned in a bug. Yup. Kafka was weird. A lot of people say that it’s an allegory on isolation and alienation of humankind in modern society (let’s be real, what literary work isn’t?) and it’s honestly pretty interesting.

So, that was some pointless rant and I’m going to end this here.

-Nik.