After-Meal Thoughts

Hey there people!

I had was at a restaurant the other day, and I'd just finished my meal, and decided to whip out my notebook. With nothing in particular in mind, I started jotting down options for my New Year's Resolution, along with the pros and cons. Among them, I put down "Writing" as a skill I should improve next year.

You may not know this, but back in high school, I had this dream of becoming a writer. I guess it's still there, in the back of my mind somewhere. It all started with a project we had back in 9th grade, I think it was, where we were supposed to write a novel. I thought the one I wrote was awesome (as teenagers are bound to think about their own creations), and my teachers seemed to agree to an extent; they kept asking me for the next chapter, not to meet the deadline but because they were curious of what happened next. Since then I'd write a story or two every month or so, got into writing fanfiction, started up and then expanded my personal book collection.

Thinking about that English assignment reminded me of an essay they had us make in English class, entitled "My Trip to Outer Space." Looking back on it now, I  think it was rather creative, compared to what other kids would have (and indeed did) come up with. It was wildly imaginative, with clever uses of common English idioms and phrases, and somehow managed to keep a coherent flow and structure. It ended up on the school bulletin (which nobody read), which was quite a surprise for me.

As I sat alone in the smoking area of that restaurant (I started smoking again recently, though not nearly as heavily as I used to), notebook on the table, twirling my pen in my fingers, I couldn't help but smile to myself, a mixture of pride and nostalgia in my chest. I thought to myself, I was one crazy kid back then, and wondered when and how it all started. As the question mark barely formed itself, my mind began the process of selecting the appropriate memories to answer. It goes as such:

A little boy sat in his classroom, thinking to himself. The other children had already begun writing their "essays," a term that was still unfamiliar to the boy. Having returned a scant year or two from living overseas, he still hadn't entirely mastered his own mother tongue -- indeed, when he spoke to his friends, English words and phrases would occasionally pop out if he didn't think about it.

" What are you writing about?" He heard one of the children ask.

 "I don't know yet." He said, "What are you supposed to write about?"

"I don't know, anything, I guess." said his friend. And with that, he turned back to his paper.

 The little boy turned to his own paper, blank, save for his name and class number. Although he could read perfectly well for his age, writing was still something new to him. His parents had never taught him much on how to write (this, he would find later in life, was the main reason he had horrible penmanship. Or at least that's what he tells himself), or mention what to write in an "essay."

The teacher had told them that they could write about things they liked. He had gotten a Sega earlier that year, and he really liked it, so that's what he decided to write about. In a sense. He wrote about the games he played alone, the games he played with his sister (her presence beside him as he sat in front of the TV, controller in hand, went on to become a treasured experience throughout his gaming life) the games he wanted to play, and the games he wanted to make when he grew up. 

He ended up writing two full pages of the essay sheet handed to them, and was told off by the teacher for adding drawings to a text-only essay. However, the only recollection he would have about the experience years later, with more experience in writing but equally terrible handwriting was that

It was awesome. The feeling of thoughts flowing from your mind to your hand, forming words from images, images from words. Back in elementary school, I had no idea what an essay was, or how to even form one. Looking back on it now, I feel like that was a fortunate thing, because it saved me from the dogmatic view of how normal grade-schoolers would have defined an essay. It freed me from those limitations, allowing me to form my own definition and ideas of it, and have a frickin great time working on it.

I'm not saying I was a particularly good writer, I'm saying I really loved the experience of writing, and thankfully so did some of my friends (to whom I showed my writing). In the end, isn't that what's important? Doing what you love, loving what you do, all that jazz. Along the way, if you can be useful, be helpful to other people, then it's all the better.

What do you guys think? What gets you going in life?

Regards,

-Zet Valentine

Hangover Updates

Greetings everyone!

It's been months since my last post, and life's been... colorful, to say the least. Living and adjusting to life in Japan has been taking up a lot of my time. A few times I wanted to write something but for whatever reason I didn't (or couldn't), and now here we are, a little over 5 months since my last post, with too much to tell and just barely enough time to tell it. Let's see how much I can get through in this one post.

As I write this, I'm listening to Scotty McCreery's (spell check please?) cover of Lonestar's "Amazed" on the internet while looking up the chords as well, since I've never really had a musically accurate ear.

Playing music on the guitar I borrowed from my friend really helps with this mild hangover-induced headache I have right now. I've never been a drinker, since my family isn't into drinking, and last night's bounenkai (忘年会; Year-End Party or something, it's a thing here in Japan) with my school friends was the first time I got drunk, and this morning's Samba number in my head (which has since receded to a slow waltz) is the result of my first aforementioned hangover. If you read that last sentence without doing a double-take, you're awesome.

I missed work last night because I couldn't catch the last train, and consequently had to walk home. Thankfully I had two of my friends with me, otherwise I dunno if I could've made it home (refer to "first time drunk" above). Oh yeah, I have work now. I work the graveyard shift at a bento factory half an hour by train, along with 3 of my friends. The hours are hell, but the pay's good. It keeps me busy as well, God knows I need that.

Speaking of God, I started going to Church again recently, after years and years. It's really nice, compared to what experiences I had back home. The people (from everywhere!) are all really nice and open, and have really let me be part of the group/team/family. I feel quite fortunate that there are some of my fellow countrymen as well.

On a less happy note, my girlfriend and I decided to end our relationship two months ago. It's been hard, but the main thing is that we still remain good friends (sounds like something you'd hear in celebrity gossip/news).

I think I should get some more sleep, my head's starting to hurt again. Hangovers really are a bitch, huh? The silver lining is that I still remember what happened last night, and that it was real, which is more than I can say about how I (sometimes) feel about the rest of this post.

Until we meet again,

-- Zet Valentine

At Long Last (#6, 2012)

Whoops, haven't blogged in a while. Been kinda busy with lots of stuff.

Anyway, let's just cut to it.

I'm going to Japan. Finally. Only for a year, but still, you never know, right?
Even now I still find it hard to believe that in twelve hours I'll be in another country, the one I've been dreaming of going to for so long.

Finished packing last night, but I still keep on worrying I forgot something. I woke up suddenly a couple of hours ago, thinking I forgot a housewarming gift. Still feeling a bit antsy, and still haven't managed to get back to sleep.

I'll be posting again when I get to Japan.
Until then,

- Zet

Recap (aka Letter #1, 2012)

Greetings, and salutations,

whatever that means.

As always, it's been a long time since my last post, and obviously much has happened since then. That being the case, there are a few things which I would like to mention, or at least attempt to, in somewhat reverse-chronological order.

Back when I was still active here I used to have this thing where I numbered each post (or letter) in the title, as above. Obviously it's been ages since I did that, and frankly I'm too lazy to open my previous posts and do a headcount of which letter this is. Therefore I've decided to restart the numbering based on what year it is. As you can see this is my first letter of 2012, hence the above title. As before, not all posts will be explicitly given a number designation, but I will try and keep track of these things.

I may or may not have mentioned this, but I'm currently attending college (university, whatever you wish to call it. There isn't much distinction in my mind), majoring in Japanese language and culture. Last December, I took the JLPT (Japanese Language Proficiency Test) along with my girlfriend and one of my best friends.

For those of you who are wondering, The JLPT is basically Japan's TOEFL test. Under the current system, it is divided into 5 different levels, N1-N5, with N5 being the lowest, and N1 the highest. We took the N3 test this time, which, aside from being a formal way of saying you might survive day-to-day life in Japan, is a requisite (am I using that word correctly?) for graduation. Fortunately I passed. Not with flying colors, but I passed. What that means to me as a job-seeker is that if I apply for work in Japan or at a Japanese-owned company, chances are I could get somewhere between entry- and lower mid-level positions, IF I'm deemed good enough. Something like that. I'm just drawing my own conclusions here, so people with more experience on the matter may wish to bash my skull in.

On the subject of Japan, our university has this exchange program (though as far as I know, it's not an 'exchange' per se as we don't really receive students) with a language institute in Japan. The headmaster (I think he was) was kind enough to come here to Indonesia and explain the program for those of us who were interested, which definitely included yours truly. The problem of course being financial in nature. As of this writing I'm still in negotiations with my mother and am keeping my fingers crossed.

I have the preview for this blog open in the next tab, and frankly I wish to do something about the design. However I've never been particularly good in either technology or aesthetics, so I'm not sure how to make that happen. Suggestions, anyone?

I suppose that's it for now; if I go any further I might as well start writing an autobiography. Don't forget to check my friend's blog (for those of you who missed the link it's http://jellyjyun04.blogspot.com/ ). It's in (somewhat broken) Japanese, which really has me thinking about doing a Japanese post as well, for practice.

Hope to see you again soon!

Sincerely,

- Zet Valentine

P.S

Experimenting with font sizes, tell me how it is in the Blahbox or comments section please.

Damn (I Haven't Posted in a While)

Heya. It's been a while since I last posted something. You'd think that I'd have posted something on Valentine's/Chinese New Year (this being The Valentine Letters and such), huh? Well, I'd love to say that college got in the way, but truth be told, I've quite run out of things to talk about. Seems I've been experiencing a creativity block the past few weeks. Anyway, I've got time to kill, so I figured I'd give it a shot.

Something that's been going around in my mind for the past few days is the movie-favorite, oft-repeated phrase, "I will/would fight for you". Now, in old times, you might actually take this literally - someone would actually fight someone else for another certain someone, win the fight, then live happily ever after. Close book, cue "awww" and happy tears, roll credits.

Let's face it, each and every one of us would like to think that, should the occasion arise, we would heroically rise and do battle for the sake of our loved ones. For the most part, we really would. Protecting what matters is perhaps part of our basic human instinct. What most of us aren't prepared for, however, is when the threat we have to face is sometimes ourselves.

What happens then?
What happens when we become the very thing we swore to protect them from? How do you protect someone you love.. from yourself?

When you first held her in your arms, you knew that you'd never let any hurt, pain, suffering come to them if you could help it. But then you see her going through such pain and hardship, more than anything you could ever think of, and you're the one who caused it, what would you do? Could you live with yourself after that? Even though she says it's okay, that everything's fine, would you ever forgive yourself for doing something like that?

My answer: you just have to. The phrase "love hurts" doesn't mean you should be some pessimistic lowlife and just live with the pain. It means that the person you love isn't the one who can simply make you happier than you've ever felt, but they can also make you feel more pain then you've ever imagined.
It may sound odd at first, I know. But put it this way: God is capable of doing both great and terrible things. If God were only able to do great things, if God were limited to only doing good, then that means there is something higher, more powerful than God, and I'd rather bow to that higher being.

It's extremely complicated, even for me, but If you've fell in love before, you'd know what I'm talking about.

Think about it.

-Zet

P.S.
I've got a new "bachelor's pad": Apt. Mediterania, A/23 C/J. Renting it for the year. Have a looksee if you're in the neighborhood. (Special shoutout to dS members and friends)

Our Strongest Points Are Our Weakest (aka Quote of the Day)

Taken from Paulo Coelho's "The Pilgrimage", with slight change. A bit of a paradox, some of you might say, but if you've read the book, you'll at least understand what he's getting at.

It's kinda hard to explain, so maybe an example will help.

Take me, for instance. I like to call myself a writer. I love writing, and truthfully, I think I'm pretty good at it. Sports, on the other hand, I'm not very good at. You could say it's my weakness. That being the case, I work hard to cover it - being a guy, I don't want to face the humiliation of being bad at sports. So I train myself, try out different sports until I can do it.
In any case, when people criticize or comment on me for not being good at sports, I just shrug them off, because it's a fact I already know. But once someone criticizes my writing, on the other hand, I become hurt, lose my self confidence. In other words, I react more to my "strong point" being attacked than my "weak point".

If that example didn't illustrate it well enough, get yourself a copy of "The Pilgrimage". It does a much better job, believe me.

My point (I think) is that so often we take too much pride in ourselves, in our abilities, and fear too much for our weaknesses, that we forget that we're not perfect. There's always something or someone better. Once we become too confident that we're "good enough", we feel that we've lost everything when we realize that somebody is better. I suppose that's where they coined the phrase "Pride comes before the fall" from.

This is why people such as athletes, musicians, etc, never claim that they're the best (the good ones, at least); they have this sense of humility. They take the praise and criticism, and use it to push themselves forward. They never stop trying to be better.
It's because of this, that when I hear someone say to me, "I'm really good at..." I'd have my doubts, compared to someone who says, "I can do.... but I'm not that good."; the one who says they're good might actually be good, but that also means that they're not trying to be any better. The second person could also be good, but then again could also suck. But the important thing is, that they realize that they could be better/there's someone better than themselves.

In simple terms, 1st person= arrogant, 2nd person= humble. Guess who's more likable.


You know, for some reason I think that same pride is the reason why people don't like psychiatrists, psychologists, psychoanalysts of any kind: they don't want to hear that someone else knows more about themselves than they do. I don't know about you, but I'm ready enough to admit that I don't want to have someone tell me what kind of person I am, especially if they're right. I (and maybe most of the world) would like to think that the person who knows most about me is myself.

But I digress. Back to the point, when we think we're ready, or capable, or good enough, is actually showing that we aren't. Now I'm not asking you to think that you're all dumb, no. I am asking you (and myself), to look at ourselves, look at both the things we think we're good at, and the things we aren't, and ask ourselves: Can I do better?

Think about it.
-Zet

P.S:
I think I found a new motto. XD

Previous QotD (aka Pathogenic Humanity)

Last post's Quote of the Day was something that I had really connected with when I first read/heard it. There are a lot of other memorable and (in my opinion) significant quotes from the Metal Gear series, but this one in particular was one that I could really connect with.

Why? because it was how I saw the world. No, maybe that's going overboard. It's more like it was how I thought about things in general, and what I try to be and do in life.

I mean, think about it. Most of the problems we have now is because people try to change the world, instead of leave it the way it is. And for those of you who think that we shouldn't just change the world, but make it better, I respectfully disagree. Trying to make the world better is no different from changing it. Besides, let's face it "better" is a very loose and relative term. You don't need me to tell you this, but my "better" and yours may not be the same. Besides, look at wars and conflicts (and some other points) in the past; I'm no good at history, so I'll just mention the obvious ones.

Do you think that Hitler thought he was doing an evil thing when he tried to eradicate Jews? Or the Popes who ordered the Crusades on Jerusalem? Or the industrial revolution, which I view as the starting point for pollution, over-exploitation, and every other environmental issue?

No, these people thought that they were doing the world a favor. They thought that what they were doing was the right thing. They thought they were making the world better.

Still not convinced? Here's you're Quote of the Day:

"I realized that you're not actually mammals. Every mammal on this planet instinctively develops a natural equilibrium with their surrounding environment, but you humans do not. You move to another area, and you multiply, and you multiply, until every natural resource is consumed. The only way you can survive is to spread to another area. There is another organism on this planet that follows the same pattern. Do you know what it is? A virus. Human beings are a disease, a cancer of this planet."

-Hugo Weaving as Agent Smith, from The Matrix

Again, think about it. Imagine some place on earth where humans haven't yet inhabited. There's an ecosystem; plants, animals, predators, a river, maybe a volcano, whatever you want. Ideally, the food chain would be balanced; plants are eaten by plant-eaters, which are in turn eaten by meat-eaters, which are eaten by... well, bigger meat-eaters.

From what little I've picked up on nature documentaries, carnivores are usually naturally careful about their prey. Eat too much, food runs out. Same goes for the herbivores.
In short, imagine a place where it really is "survival of the fittest"

Say a disease comes along, infects one species. Disease spreads, many die, but said disease has no more hosts. Eventually some other species comes along, reinhabits, end of story.

Now, advances in medical technology may have cured many (and I mean many) diseases, but you could say that it's also accelerated the "evolutionary arms race" against viruses and bacteria. The above scenario is totally ideal, and I think isn't very likely to happen anywhere, even without humans. But the fact that the disease (let's say it was caused by a virus) would run out of hosts and eventually die out is - well, also unlikely, but at least it's plausible. Back on topic, advances in medical technology also causes viruses and bacteria to adapt to the antibodies more quickly than it would "naturally" (i.e. the above "ideal scenario)

I'd say more, but if you've actually bothered to read this far, I'm guessing you're more than capable of thinking up scenarios where the world would be better without humans, so I'm gonna end this post abruptly (for a second there it crossed my mind to just hit "publish" right there) with a final note that I'm not suggesting that we go back to the way things were and live in the dark ages. Please, as idealistic as I sometimes may be, even I don't want that to happen. I'm just saying, let's think about just living life the way it is right now, not changing too much of the world.

Think about it.
-Zet

The Judgement Call (aka It's Nothing Personal)

Let's face it, we've all been judged before by others, be it by our parents, peers, teachers, colleagues, or even complete strangers. Heck, chances are we've done the same to others, consciously or not.

People judge others by the way they think, act, talk, heck even the way they look. This is especially true in a conservative society such as ours. (Opinions may differ, but I still count Indonesian society as EXTREMELY conservative) The sad reality of it is that how people judge you, how they see you through their personal spyglass of the world affects how they act towards you in general. This reaction ranges from the mild hesitation when getting acquainted to downright condescending behavior.

What's most concerning to me is that people take this attitude with them everywhere. I mean, they really take it to heart. It seems to me that most Indonesians are foreign to the concept of "not taking it personal". Once they make a negative judgement on someone, they only see that person in a negative light. Which, I suppose, is some sort of generalization.

Here are some of my personal experiences. I wear a bandanna almost everywhere I go. For some reason, the image of someone wearing a bandanna is tied to the gangster/mob/thug/what have you culture. Everywhere I go while wearing said bandanna, I get stared at cautiously by most people, curiously by some (especially kids). Then there's my tattoo. It's only one, and not that big, mind you, but my ex didn't like it, mostly because of the (old-fashioned, stupid, idiotic) association with gangs. Sure, gang members like to wear tattoos, but not every guy who has a tattoo is a gangster. Seriously now.
(On a side note, I'd like to thank my loving girlfriend for letting me be myself, tattoo and all. :D)

It seems that people have this predetermined concept of what's "right" and "wrong", and anything that's different by the slightest is enough call for caution. (you might want to refer to previous post "First Letter" as well)
Seriously now, just because you don't agree with how someone acts/looks, doesn't mean you have to force them to do as you want them to. Is it really that hard for people to "agree to disagree"?

Simple example: I'm an agnostic (google it if you don't know what that is), and most if not all of my friends are religious people. Naturally, we don't see eye-to-eye on that. With some of said friends, I've discussed the matter of religion (thankfully they're open-minded people, otherwise I'd be six feet under right now), and we see each other's point. No, we don't agree on it, but we understand what the other has to say, and respect that. And guess what? We get along perfectly fine. (This gives me an idea for a future post on atheism/agnosticism)

Again, people, try to understand what other people have to say, where they stand. You might not agree with them, but that doesn't mean you have to bitch on them either.

Thoughtfully yours,
-Zet