I don't want to survive, I want to LIVE!

Waking up to a beautiful Saturday morning, feeling good.

Checked out Michael Phelps. This young fella broke 31 World Records even before Beijing Olympic this year. He beats his rivals, previous swimmers' records, and his own record. His first world record for 200m Butterfly was during World Championship in Fukuoka, Japan in 2001; while his first Olympic gold was in 2004, where he won 2 bronzes, 6 golds, breaking 3 Olympic records, 1 world record and 2 American record. And duing Beijing Olympic 2008, until the writing of this post, Michael Phelps has won 7 gold, breaking 6 world records and 1 Olympic record. More importantly, he broke his previous World Record in the 200-meter freestyle by nearly a second.

It strucks me at how one leaves a legacy like this in his career. He is not only good in his gift - swimming, but outstanding! He is so famous that people write about him in Wikipedia, from brief introduction about him, to detailed personal life history and lengthy achievements in his swimming career.

To the rest of non-swimmers population, we also can taste one's effort in committment, feel one's determination to excel, and proud on one's achievement in the eyes of all mankind. An athlete makes use of all his physical strength to define limit from a new prespective. He charms the world with the fact that sport is not just about fame and glory. It's about aspiration for others to go beyond one's limit. It's an art of living out a meaningful life.

I believe everyone is gifted in different ways. Some people are born to shine in eyes of the world, some are born to work behind the screen and give the world a push; some are born to touch the lifes of many, some are meant for particular group of people. It's time we discover our gifts, and make full use of it to mark a difference in man's history that we ever live at all.

If you were asked: "What kind of legacy do you want to leave?", what would be your answer?

Cheers :-)

Demure

I learnt a new word from Kevin.

Demure - (used especially about a girl or young woman) shy, quiet and well behaved

I'm not sure if it's a compliment, but it certainly defines me to a certain extent.

In the old days, where we can watch from some of those 80s movies, we see women always protray the image of soft-spoken, controlled, and, and.. DEMURE! Yes, that's the word. And the guys are always out there hunting (I mean, working to find) for food, that's why they're always macho and protective over women. They gave the impression that men have the responsibility to provide food and shelter and any form of security for the frail ladies while the latter are in charge of keeping the household in order. Hence it became like a model for the society to follow - should any girl can protray the "good" traits as shown in the dramas/movies, then she's a competent wife and men should bring her home.

However I realise that these days most boys no longer that attracted to girlish type of girls, or the demure, skema type of girls. Instead, they're more attracted to outspoken, sporty type of girls. They deem these girls have "attitude". Maybe it is easier for them to approach the outspoken girls because there will be little chance for quick-think-of-what-should-I-say-next moment where both will immersed in long silence.

And the way these girls think is very different from the ones described above. They are frank and bold. They are more confident and comfortable in open conversation. Their brilliant ideas and wits reflect the true colour of a lady. Or maybe because the sporty ladies shine charmingly when they beat the boys flat in games.

I don't have problem with the change of wind direction. While change is the only constant, I always like to see more variety in the people whom I meet. Being a demure, old-fashioned girl myself, I'm also attracted to the more sporty and outspoken girls. These are the girls you can feel engaged with their conversation easily and may even enjoy being blown away by their wits!

Having said that, it'll not be the reason I'd change myself from who I am to who I am not just because I want to make myself "sell". I feel comfortable to be who I am now and should there be a beholder, he should see the beauty as it is, too. Afterall, being a demure girl is not a crime *eyes rolling*. If it is, you'll see posters of my face, stating "WANTED", haha, oops!

Have a nice day!

Rest Before Striving Again.

Walking down the dimly-lit corridor, I was on my way back to my room in KTSN. This is like one of my most familiar paths during these recent years. However, the faces of new juniors make all the difference. Of course, new term is starting next week - my forth and final year.

I’m the kind of person who dislikes changes. I can be random at some of the time, one of the evidence will be revealed below. But the longer I grow in something, that something will grow in me, too. And it’s sorrowful for me to accept the fact that I will be leaving something behind when it has grown this much in me.

I thought I love to spend my time in KTSN. Not to mention I’m the first one to enjoy the brand new comfort in my room as mentioned in previous post. The shocking fact was, it was not that appealing to me at that time. Even with the wireless strength in my room was at its full blast, I couldn’t bear the meaningless life here for even one day, hanging around just to start straight off with my thesis. That explains why:

Last Monday morning, I did meet my thesis supervisor. I was told to focus in Toxoplasma gondii infection in local wet market. In the afternoon, I spent my time searching for books in library and hanged around in my “new” room.

Approaching evening, I suddenly had the urge to go back home - very strongly indeed. At first I told my mum that I’m not going back home after meeting my supervisor because I figured a lot of student from other university will be heading KL during this weekend as we will be starting our new term at the same time. But the urge is so strong that I couldn’t bother much about traffic jam or whatnots anymore. Deep down I yearn like a child – I wanted to go home…

Again, I made use of my speed-packing skill I acquired by attending debate tournaments. It has passed 6pm as I headed for KTSN gate. I flagged a cab, hopped on LRT, bought myself a bus ticket at Plaza Rakyat station and there I was, sending sms to surprise my parents.

Life in KL is exciting and happening. Shopping malls with cinemas are easily accessible, high-end restaurants with good food is everywhere, and my favourite bookstores cannot be any nearer. Beautiful Titiwangsa Lake is just opposite KTSN, national library is just a gate separated from me. I shouldn’t complain. In fact, I find nothing to complain about.

On the other hand, life at home is home-cooked food, TV, some hawker food for dinner and more TV at night. It sounded like a boring routine. And if you’d ask me, yes, this is exactly the kind of life I missed. I haven’t really enjoyed my holiday during the break. I was having my LI. LI was indeed fun, but a relaxing holiday can’t be replaced with satisfaction during LI. They are two different things.

Hanging around at home is more relaxing than at my hostel room, where all my neighbours had yet to come back. I love watching my mum’s favourite Taiwan drama with her, although I don’t really keen on the progress of the drama. It’s the moment that I missed. I missed sharing a plate of fried hor fan with my dad. I love watching news at mamakstall and discuss what had happened that day. Oh, if you’ve lived under a bombshell for the recent three months, Malaysia politic changes in term of days ever since the last general election. I love to watch Scrubs and Friends and some other TV programs which I don’t have the chance to watch when I’m back at hostel. I love to spend four hours just to read that day’s newspaper. I miss the taste of white coffee at home. I missed the quiet moment when I can absent-mindedly swing myself on the swing and stare blankly at the blue sky above, day dreaming, with the occasional roaring of motor bike or the chatters of school children passing by my house.

Life passed by at a very slow pace, but it was like the most contented life I can ever have. All of this makes the peaceful life at home a lot more meaningful.

Now I’m back in my hostel room, for real. I’m going to start my new term next Monday. Hope it’ll be a good term, and as fruitful as the previous!

The Story of the Pencil

Another article from the same book introduced in the previous post, and this one is my favourite. Enjoy.

A grandma told her grandson to be like a pencil when he grows up. What's so special about being like a pencil?
5 qualities of a pencil:

1. You are capable of great things, but you must never forget that there is a hand guiding your steps. We call that hand God, and He always guides us according to His will.

2. Now and then, the writer has to stop writing and use a sharperner. That makes the pencil suffer a little, but afterwards, he's much sharper. So we must learn to bear certain pains and sorrow, because they will make you a better person.

3.The pencil always allows us to use an eraser to rub out any mistakes. This means that correcting something we did is not necessarily a bad thing; it helps to keep us on the road to justice.

4.What really matters in a pencil is not its wooden exterior but the graphite inside. So always pay attention to what is happening inside you.

5. It always leaves a mark. In just the same way, you should know that everything you do in life will leave a mark; so try to be concious of that in every action.

*smile*

Who would like this twenty-dollar bill?

No, I'm not giving away money here, but just to share a story I find interesting with you all. Here goes:

There was a lecturer who began a seminar by holding up a twenty-dollar bill and asking:

'Who would like this twenty-dollar bill?'

Several hands went up, but the lecturer said:'Before I give it to you, I have to do something.'

He screwed it up into a ball and said:'Who still wants this bill?'

The hands went up again.

'And what if I do this to it?'

He threw the crumpled bill at the wall, dropped it on the floor, insulted it, trampled on it, and once more showed them the bill - now all creased and dirty. He repeated the question, and the hands stayed up.

'Never forget this scene,'he said. 'It doesn't matter what I do to this money. It is still a twenty-dollar bill. So often in our lives, we are crumpled, trampled, ill-treated, insulted, and yet, despite all that, we are still worth the same.'

I got this story from the book Like the Flowing River by Paulo Coelho, which is the book that introduces me to this marvellous yet humble author, whom I quoted the sentence at the top of this page from. I like what were written in the book and a lot of my friends find the book interesting too. It is enlightening and inspiring, using simple analogies and short stories to relate to other incidents we might face in life.

Enjoy!

for one more day

yup, it's a title of a book by mitch albom(ok, can't really remember the spelling). i get to have some lite reading last weekend, finally!! God, before this, i can't remember when's the last time i actually finish a book!

bought it from border book store, it costs some money, but i think this book worth it :-) i like what's shared by the author. if not because i needed to answer a nature call, i don think this book deserve a book mark -- u simply can't put it down!

it's about a son in great depair of his life meeting his late-mum at the minute he wanted to end his life. the author says it's a ghost story, because it involves a spirit of a dead person in the story. well, if so, i think it's the first and last ghost story i'm gonna read. personally, i very afraid of listening and reading ghost story, not to mention horror movie..no, i'd never allow it to happen to mebut for this book, in fact, i'm glad i bought it, knowing it is a ghost story.

that guy, Charley, people called hin Chick in the story( except his mother), had gone through several large downfalls in his life, continuously..he was a baseball player in World Series (his glory moment), but his team then keep loosing, so he landed himself in office work, doing sales, then lost the job, found another sales company, remained the same attitude, lost customers, fired. family? divorced with his wife, his daughter who used to love him much didn't even invite him to her wedding, informed him only weeks later after the ceremony, sad..that's the main factor that drove him to the idea of ending his life. he wanted to kill himself at his grown up place, his home. he drove all the night there, with a gun in his car, and several cans of beer. that's why, people, don drink and drive! although he didn't plan to kill himself on the road, he didn't care if he really died there.

the story begins here, after the accident on the highway. his body lying unconscious down the hill, but his spirit came out, without himself noticing it. now he even wonder whether he's a murder, because the truck which he banged into the minute before has no driver in the seat! then he had a vision about his mother comforting him, right at that moment,ha~

skip, skip...so, according to the story, it's because when someone is near the "end", he'll be meeting people from that "end" too. so u see how near he was already..

he spent a day with his mother. recalling all his childhood days at his childhood place. moments with his family, mostly with his mother. he even made a list of time his mother stands up for him and times he didn't stand up for his mother.. of course, the former touches my heart deeply, i'm touched by the way a mother can love her child this much..this is not a thick book, chick only spent a day with his mother. suppose he's died, but he spent this extra, meaningful day with his mother, that's where the name of this book comes from. for the mother, it's just an ordinary day, paying visit to her customers as a beautician. did i say his mother's died? yup, she was, and the people she's visiting were all near the end, too. the first customer of that day's going to end her life that very evening, her mum's just preparing the lady to meet her husband "later". the second customer's suffering from a cancer, not long to go too.. and the third, well, i can't remerber if she's suffering from any disease, but she's chick's father's wife, and she's not chick's mother. chick's father, Len, met chick's mother, Posey, first, then len left for war. he met this woman (forgot her name in this story though), and married her, with the idea of not going back home. it's not that he didn't want to, it's that he didn't know there might be a chance to come back. but hey, the war ended two weeks after Len had proposed to Posey! what's hapenning here? not really remember. but the fact is, Len and that women had a son. years later, Len wantedo pay his debt, he felt very guilty and sorry to that woman, so bought a house for them .when Posey found out, this caused them to split. since that day, chick's a mama's boy, instead of papa's boy, which he used to promise (to his father) to be.

i'm not good in synopsis writing, but i shouldn't miss the part of chick's life as a baseball player, because we can feel the craze of chick to baseball in the story. this craze was one of the factor making him not at home when his mother passed away.. he wasn't there when her mother was discovered dead too.. and he's feeling very guilty for that. who won't? hmm, that's all i want to talk about the craze, ha~so sorry, dunno how else to say it. just read the book la! chick was introduced to this game by his father, by the way.

i'm going to talk about my view about this book later la.

i think that's all for today la, going to leave this cc, yea, my KTSN cc.

still waiting for the vice canselor cup junior english debate report..