I
Grab the children, let them flee. Maybe it’s safer for them to really believe that adults would be able to lead the way. Before they realise that most of the elders really are none the wiser.
Did you hear Syria is banning facebook? It’s nation vs webpage.
Like a grandmother hiding pornographic VCR tapes – come on, who you kidding.
———
II
I cant help being attracted to guys that look like they murder their wives. Is a curse. I have daddy issues. What rhymes with issues. Tissues. Shoes. Booze. Fuse. Noose. Cruise. Ew I hate Tom Cruise.
——-
III
Edwin Tan made it a point to knock it into me before I started work here that as an intern, nothing is beneath me.
I am Khai’s diminished sense of self worth.
I am just the intern. I am only an intern. I am but an intern. I am nothing but an intern.
I am Bah’s heightened sense of insecurity.
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IV
You know what else I am?
I am breaking the internet usage rules.
Hehe.
Filed under: heartshaped box
you didn’t hear me over the phone (on a phonecall that came abit….tak kena pada masa) I am, as a matter of fact, hampaupsetdistressedbaffled.
Be careful what you wish for, they said. You might just get it.
I didn’t really think about that when the time came for me to decide where I was to complete the end of my Diploma course. It was exhiliratingly liberating. I was like a kid in a candy store. A bull in a chinashop. A kid bull in a chinese candy store!
I basically tikam-tikam my way through the potential employers – just because I was jakun with my resume and trigger happy with the CV attached e-mails. At the end of the misadventure, some bizarre stroke of luck landed me here.
Actually misadventure would be the perfect word to describe how everyday’s been like since internship started. I get silent panic attacks and random giggly moments with every other ticking of the clock. Sometimes I can’t believe I’m going through it, sometimes I actually really believe I’m doing well enough to impress but most of the time I’m biting my lower lip raw.
Ibu made a big fuss when I crossed a landmark recently – the kind of fuss typical of a Malay mother. She reminded me of a once upon a time when I declared this would be my career of choice. And apparently I seemed to have really wanted this.
Did I really want this?
To be persistantly insecure, to be made to feel like an insensitive hypocritical footsoldier?
One that can’t enunciate or emphatise, for that matter.
Half the class, when we first met, said that they did. They dreamed up photo bylines and 007-like escapades rubbing shoulders with the movers and the shakers of today. They wanted to rendezvous with history.
I remember telling Ms Kannan the contrary, that I wanted to revolutionise the music industry. (Don’t laugh, lah) But it looks like I made a U-turn.
I’m rediscovering my first love, dancing awkwardly around the Bahasa. He’s someone I knew from long before, that I took forgranted because he was always around anyway. Now that he’s giving me a chance to lead the joget, I fumble.
It gets really disheartening.
I’m not even sure I’m doing my best – maybe because if I give it my all but still fall flat, something is going to break.
—
I don’t regret sending that e-mail asking for the internship, though.
However crap I feel not being up to par, I’m surrounded by the most colourful of characters always willing to help out.
Only 1/6 of the way through and I’ve had lessons beyond the academic area, some truly humbling moments among the exciting ones. Plus the laughs out loud underneath the ketupats and lampu lap-lip hanging overhead really make things interesting.
Someone left on his last day yesterday, and I was too shy now that I think about it I should’ve thanked him for not choking me to death when I took it upon myself to tag along the ‘377A’ job.
The day before that my lecturer in charge came down to check up on me (probably due to the panicked emails) and diagnosed me to be just fine.
I hope I deal with ‘just fine’ and not end up returning my work pass feeling like the pet cockroach the office had just for fun.
