it makes you wonder who the real person is. it makes you wonder who plays the shadow, who suppresses the other.

I’ve been doing an internship for the past week with a law firm. The experience is a much needed eye opener for me into the reality of the legal working life. Be it the culling of disillusions and fantasies or an opened window into a new perspective and respect for the industry, I need this because it will make my final decision that much more informed: Do I want to be a lawyer?

So after a week, what do I think?

Here’s what:

The money isn’t terrific. To get a five-figure salary it would take at least till I’m 30. And that, of course, would mean I have to be that good a lawyer. Now, at the cost of sounding like a snob, I DO think I’m above average. But as people who personally know me, I’m a pessimist. I’m always expecting the worst.

Of course, it really isn’t all about the money, is it? What do I want from this job? To answer that question, I need to look bigger, and confront the larger puzzle: What do I want in life? A high paying job (and as professionals go, lawyers are just average, fyi)?

It might’ve been from the fact that I’m a (as a peer recently put it) socially awkward person, but I have a far deeper interest in the world than just helping banks repossess homes or handling drafting. I want to see it, make my mark, change something in this horribly decrypt planet we live on.

But judging from the path I now tread, I seem to be heading towards an entry into the suburban cycle of monotony… a dull and endless nine to five prison. We’re all like lost lambs… coming out of our homes to labour for other people, spending the majority of our life working just to provide the comfort we can only enjoy in the minority of whatever time we have.

The simple truth is that we really, all of us, do not know what lies beyond this existence. I might be reborn with a second chance, I might spend the eternity in Hell, or there might in fact be nothing beyond the closing of our eyelids: Nonexistence.

You may say that it’s being overdramatic to think about all these things.

But how can you not, when there’s only one life? A life of which we know not of its reason to exist. A mundanity so eternal you begin to wonder what’s the point of being alive in the first place. Spend it all on work?

I could go on about how life is unfair and how others get to enjoy its comforts without lifting a finger depending on the dice you roll at birth, but that would take too long. The most likely scenario is that being a coward, I’m inevitably going to be sucked into the whirlpool.

And I dread it.

I fly off in exactly 51 days. If you want honesty you can have it:

I don’t think I’ll miss malaysia. Or even the UK when I get back. I don’t think I’ll grow attached to places. It’s people who have the potential to dig deep into me and either inject a plethora of happiness or poison me with depression. And it seems as if wherever I go I cannot escape them.

You yearn, but in the end all you do is learn, that there isn’t going to be anyone out there to see you through. In the end,

it’s your story.

For the past, present, and future emo posts, I’d like to apologize.

While my erratic bouts with mood swings and depression are nowhere as bad as it was 5 years ago (and even when it happens I no longer show it IRL) sometimes these little rants do pop up from time to time, especially when my psychiatrist is not available for talking it out with (therefore the post below). The words are true and the insecurities genuine, but for my own self-imposed perverse reasons I don’t delete blog entries, not even when it offends anyone I know personally (which I try to avoid).

Cheers.

—-

I have actually little more than 50 or so days to go before the big flight. The flying itself is supposedly going to take forever (about nearly 20 hours on a plane, with transit), so yeah. Been perhaps a tiny bit busy doing research on what I need to prepare for my arrival there, visa, accommodation, blood test and having Pearl panic and sms/msn me over the slightest possible problems that might snatch away from her the Manchester Dream.

Girl stop being so paranoid.

My StudyMess, which spanned across the study and my sister’s room (I don’t have one ) was left static after the final paper because I wasn’t sure expected the nightmare had terrible visions of thought it would be better to just leave it that way until it was all but confirmed that I didn’t need to resit a paper. Thankfully, there wasn’t a need to.

I didn’t exactly touch the mess until two days after the results were out, when my dad decided that it was about time. I obliged. It was quite refreshing to be honest, chucking away the sea of papers and notes into a single space and destroying whatever you had organized over the year to prepare for an examination which is finally… dare I say it?… Over.

5 year old iPod for size comparison

The above text-books I’m bringing over to the UK for personal reference. I’ve a feeling they’ll come in handy. Via post though. These things are too thick and heavy for luggage. Try carrying two law textbooks inside a shoulder bag on a 3-subject lecture day. It kills you.
 

Angel on top of all the discarded notes.

Okay it’s 6am and I better sleep. Have to drive to KL in the morning, then meet Steph at Sunway to get her macbook at 2pm, and badminton at 6pm =.=

To all my female friends out there:

I’m sick of being your girlfriend with a pair of balls. I’m not a 24/7 Pillow Station for you to whine about your fucking guy problems and how this guy is so insensitive oh boo hoo guys don’t know how girls feel.

I’m sick of having glimpses of how easy it is for other guys with a little muscle and charm have you all fall head over heels for them just because they’re good at fucking sitting there doing nothing but at least looking good. It annoys me to no end how some guy can get you fickle creatures in such a short time while I spent 5 years remaining true to some vagina because I was too naive to know my place and market value.

I’m taking a long break from your whining and being inevitably exposed to the world of romance because I hate it. It reminds me what an unlikeable creature I am.

Tough.

It’s hypocritical, but to those who failed, I’m actually confident that they will make good lawyers, and am willing to come to the library to help you out studying if you need any (seriously, just holler. Only if I’m free though. Pearl’s doing the same).

Some, of course, deserve no such sympathy. The overconfident, the lax, and the arrogant, I smugly laugh inside. I don’t consider myself a person immune to the temptations of hatred and vengeance.

Right, before the eat-sleep-shit post, I want to emo a little:

I do not dare call it love, because I don’t want to throw such a powerful word upon something I have yet to understand. But I think I like a girl. Of course, nothing’s really changed for me. It’s the same reaction to every girl that I like, (being suddenly cold to them and just avoiding the female like the plague), without a doubt due to low self confidence. But… even then, despite pats on the back, reality is thrown at you in an honest statement. “Don’t go for her. She won’t like you.” is the usual reply I get whenever I confide. Some people get teases when they tell others how they feel about someone. I get warnings and advice. And this time, I’m taking the advice I know I will get. Here’s to not doing anything about it

Anyway.

Cibai Pearl (aka my future Dorm-Mate in Manchester) and I got something for the staff and lecturers to eat that day. The wtf reply we got at the Help Law Dept. was “Not Krispy Kreme?” -_-

Didn’t really managed to get everyone to pose. I’m sure you know who they are: Mr. Amir, Miss K, and Miss Kathleen. By the way, so apparently they read our blogs. Don’t write fucked up emo shit like I do if you’re still under (it can get awkward. Hi Miss Kathleen! Thanks for replying my “Yeah, I was semi suicidal before the results came out!” with a “Yes, I know. I read your blog.”)

Miss Malar, who’s been VERY helpful throughout the year whenever I wasn’t too sure on procedures and enquiries. Here’s hoping admin in the UK is just as good. I’m a lost sheep when it comes to bureaucratic red tape.

The computer lab. This is where you do law research online, HELPful (sorry) during the much nightmarish assignment season in scoring that A. Also, this is where bitches and assholes check facebook (not pictured). I like to say the following sentence loudly when there isn’t an empty seat. “Oh my god I hate it when these computers are used to facebook, especially if someone else NEEDS to do work with it.” They usually ignore me. Yeah I’m quite the asshole as a nerd as well.

So long, very cold tutorial rooms which freeze my butt off. I shall miss your view of Damansara. 

Met Kim, a fellow future Lawyer at the Main Block later.

I hate the above picture of myself (I think it’s the picture of the real me), so here’s some camwhore results from two mornings ago.

That’s not an ear stud it’s a big-ass ugly mole. It’s why I have my hair long. /lol

Okay I want to go emo due to heart-break. Bye!

A sip of the warm black liquid introduces the tongue to an initial spasm of delight, followed by a lingering bitterness.

He watches her from the inside of the building, an open book on the table faced down, the glasses for his near sighted eyes put on for an increased amount of detail. He wanted to remember every curve and bend as she walked, the exposed lower half of the thighs from the single piece she wore, a hint of the silhouette underneath if the sun was at just the right angle.

And that face. He yearned to hold it in his palm, like a wrist watch to open and view when and where he liked. A ghost of solemn mixed with dry emotion. Imagine how it would look if he could make it smile?

And so the daily 6PM reason to sit down and wait till 7 was gone. Questions of how to become acquainted happened only during that brief period of her passing the street, and it was such a precious few moment, thus mostly spent gazing behind the safety of inconspicuous glass. Perhaps, again, tomorrow will fruit.

Home was empty. White was the walls, and smooth was the floor. The socks tossed slid a little, and the puppy fed too much. Work, be it an artists’ mess of notes and draft sketches, or a pile of documents and laptop with half-finished presentation belonging to a white collar, whatever job he had if he recalled, is untouched.  He slouches on the sofa, and sighs. Not a priority, not of the heart that yearns.

And how he yearned. Closed his eyes. A solid black canvas is his view.

What is her name? Rose, Sam, Allie, and the shakespeare quote of a Rose’s designation blink through the black. But oh, a name. A proper title to cry out, and none had he. How beautiful was she? Let me show you, he thinks to himself. Yellow, white, and blue. A face. No, not right. Yes, better. The same curvature and tone, the exact look of hidden sadness.

His hand reaches. Unzip, and rhythm.

Breathing hastens, his blood rushes. The warmth of the unknown, the imagined extrapolation of the shown and known, of a naked figure. Only to be thrown away, and returned to the face. The most beautiful. He finds it difficult to remember the shape. Easier was the memory of the emotion it invoked, and that he uses.

The black flashes. Excitement peaks, and by the black she tilts her head backwards, neck exposed. A spasm of delight and emotion, only to end as quickly as it came.

And he opens his eyes, embracing the lingering bitterness that must follow.

So uh, I slept at 9PM-ish and am now awake at 5AM. Blah! I’m always hungry at this time Tempted to call in McDonald’s but I’m going jogging later at 7.30 with a friend and I really don’t want to offset whatever efforts I make there T_T

I just got a message from Pearl, who’s going to Manchester too. She said since I’m going to Manchester earlier, could I greet her at the train station? Haha it’s 3 months away and we’re already talking like it’s a week from now. We’re hoping to get into to the same dorm.

Anywho, the latest shows caught were Mongol and Up. For Mongol, while its promotional poster makes it look like a hack-and-slash movie, this is actually untrue of the show itself. It’s got a lot of emotion, the landscape photography is just BEAUTIFUL (you’re tempted to visit Mongolia. I know I am) and while the story is a little weak, what makes this movie stand out is that it takes its time to show the growth of the main character, the boy who will be Gengis Khan. There’s much more to talk about on this film, but I’m not reviewing it. Suffice to say, while it’s not everyone’s cup of tea (hack and slash fans will be dissapointed, those who like a little more in-depth in character development might be underwhelmed), it’s certainly something refreshing.

UP, the new Pixar movie is apparently 98% on Rotten Tomatoes. I do not agree. The story captures your imagination and tugs at your heart string (very painfully) in the beginning, but after the first half of the show it becomes too focused on action (but to Pixar’s credit, I liked the subtle analogies to Dreams and Unreached ones). Still a must watch though for most people (it premieres in Malaysia August).

I met Ewe Jin at Sunway! He’s flying off to Australia soon. Long time no see, Ewe!

Pictures below are from explaining Aperture, ISO, Shutter Speed and Exposure to Sandy and Xiao, while we failed at Noise (it’s all about not having enough light T_T)

Two more months! *fidget*

So I passed.

I passed all my papers, and even managed to grab an A or two on the way out. It’s not one of the highest scores, but that doesn’t matter, because the dream continues.

I know that for many, there are resits to be taken and life plans to be reevaluated, but for now, I do not want to think about that. This is my moment. On August the 17th, I fly to Manchester.

So I’ve been… pretty much bumming around. Hanging out with friends, watching movies, lazing in front of the computer, reading. Productivity should start in June 22nd since that’s when my two-week internship begins.

Terminator Salvation was a total let-down. The first half of the movie was mind blowingly awesome but I hated the rest of it after that. I won’t elaborate on it, and will instead resort to the best way to describe it: meh. Where the movie fails is its inability to be subtle. Ok fine we get it its a fucking AI. Does that mean it has to talk and be given a face? The within-a-studio-ness of the sets they used was so blatant. You could actually vision the entire filming crew around the actors. Urgh.

Also, CORALINE! Has anyone watched the show? It’s not yet released in Malaysia but the movie is so awesome. Check it out. I’ve watched it twice.

Okay enough about movies.

The holidays started quite dead for me. I spent the first week pretty much without any human interaction (I don’t meet with my uni mates outside the campus). But after that things started to get better (partly because my friends themselves had finally ended their semesters). We’re trying to organize some sort of trip. Redang’s on the main list… but I’d have liked to go see Indonesia.

An update on the last 24 hours can be summed…

Watched Terminator, hated it. Hung out after that till a little later over indo-mee. Suggested to friend after to go drive around KL because I wasn’t very sleepy. She didn’t mind… but I was worried that her parents might have to wait up. So that didn’t go through. Came home, zombied into the internet for 6 hours and before you know it it’s 8am. Didn’t sleep. Breakfast with Sandy at the same place I had mamak with Li Ching and Colin the night before, but not bringing her there ever again. It’s too… secluded, and she kept getting stares from the odd-job workers there -_-. Taught her how to drive around the neighborhood. 11am, arrived home, called parents up and said I’m going to sleep but have an appointment with a friend at 7 so please wake me up at 5pm when you’re back. I woke up by myself at 5.50. Sigh. Badminton training with Khe Chun till 8pm at Holiday Villa. We went to the swimming pool and lazed at the seats watching 8 yo children get tortured by their swimming teacher (pushups wtf).

9pm back home. Ate dinner. Informed of dinner arrangements tomorrow. 

More lazing around in front of the computer.

I started using twitter about mid-2007, but it wasn’t all that popular back then. After a month of usage and very little interaction with people I actually knew, I stopped. Got dragged back in a month ago because I kept receiving emails that people I actually knew were starting to follow my ‘tweets’.

It’s funny how I use this to ‘communicate’ with some friends, when facebook and MSN (or uh, maybe actually meeting them in person) seems to already provide repetitive alternatives.

Where twitter shines for me though, is the ability to follow certain famous people. At the sound of sounding ridiculously dorky, I’m following Imogen Heap, The Ting Tings, and Lim Kit Siang, and love all the little updates from them.

yes it does, YB, yes it does.

But the illusion of actually being able to ‘interact’ with larger than life people via twitter is just that… an illusion. Most of these people have over a thousand followers, and about only 10-15 other twitterers that they themselves follow. You’re not going to really think they’d actually reply you, are they? (One of my friends actually does this to David Archuletta).

Anyway, you can follow me @mervlai.

Conversation

I sat on the left of Red Bus 12,

Behind whose name I cannot tell.

A tap on the shoulder by the ear,

To begin an encounter one might fear.

A name perhaps, followed by topic,

Of what? then, shall we call it?

Music, art, and phoggies say?

or clothes, junk, and things we pay?

Naye, me thinks, none of those,

ignoring all above proposed,

A head is turned, a slight surprise,

One can imagine the meet of eyes,

The engine roars and off we go,

But where it goes? no one knows.

- 28.5.09 –