Of optimisms and positivisms.

What’s gotten into me lately? It’s like some sort of optimistic-inducing bug has bitten me, rendering me in a state of being very cheerful (ok, I’m aware that I may not look cheerful if you’d happen to see me today). I’m positively happy and lively, I mean, in a consistent manner, not one of those on-off mood swings. I’m taking more time to blog now (a very blissful thing to do, mind. I don’t normally have the mood to blog daily). I’m thinking about her more and more daily (creepy, I know, but I can’t help it). I’m actually writing; not typing, mind. WRITING. As in using utensils on a paper. And we’re talking about fiction, monologues and songs here, not lecture notes or memos. Very unusual of me (being one who have a disdainful dislike for being a bad speller).

I’ve practically taken to singing on the streets (when I’m alone, of course, or far within earshot), sleeping, typing, making coffee for dad and cooking. I’ve been mentally making remarks of everything I’ve seen. I’ve been starting to ask more questions (which is always good, considering the line of my studies). I’ve taken larger but still unsuccessful attempts to try and engage her in a conversation (to be honest, there’s no difficulty in it. It’s just that I’m a tad little on the coward and shy side). And I’ve been dancing. Yes, dancing those darn (very feminine) wriggly-jiggly things I’ve picked up on my contemporary dancing lessons during my first semester. Thank mom for this. She’s been dragging me about trying to get her rock n roll steps right, and yesterday I had to dance with her in front of her colleagues. For demonstration. Embarrassment level 69. Still, strangely, it HAD been fun. And I did get praised for being sporting. Sporting? Seriously?

So, Tan Jee Yee, 19 years old, Diploma in Journalism student, world’s fattest idiot, social misanthrope and the apotheosis of useless and self-depressive males… now finds the world an oyster of optimisms and positivisms, was called ‘sporting’, has been told that he is loved, has fallen in love all over again, monologues with his mind and actually tried to take time to read his Malaysian Goals lecture notes.

You’d think that I’ve started taking crack during lunch breaks.

*sings* “Who will buy my beautiful morning? I’m so high I think I can fly…”

And Italy beat Germany in the world cup semi-finals. Great! I woke up and found my whole family (mom included. MOM!) yelling as Italy scored their second goal. Woohoo! Now that bet between me and my bro is evened up. Come on Portugal! Make my peanuts!

Well, if there is ONE thing that has made me a tad regretful was my stupid refusal to go and have pizza with the gals in class for lunch. Not only had I managed to char-keuh-teowed one of those rare chances of being able to spend time with her, I’ve somehow managed to tick\ Amanda off with my untimely stab at being an LSE. Not very smooth. Another day without progress. The rest of my entire life to go.

You know, now that I think of it, perhaps I’ve been living a life of being overly concerned with the consequences of my actions. I guess that it has something to do with the very horrible results of my several mistakes, and most of them tend to come back and give me a little old haunt. A poke in the memory, a reminder of painful and wounding errs.

I’ve been too much of a coward. I’ve been too afraid of the consequences to make a stand, or to take a risk. Time to courage things up. Time to make a difference. Time to make a risk.

(I certainly hope that I shall remember this resolution and not one day find myself reduced back to my pathetic state.)

Alright, now I’m going to sound very ambitious, but heck, I want to WIN something. Or at least attempt at winning, banking all my chances, you know, placing the best bet and hurling the very best I can muster (which is very little, sadly, but there is something, at least). I’ve been stagnant at these achievements thing for a little too long now. Time to try and do myself proud for a change.

There’s an upcoming book review competition, and I’m hoping to at least lap in a consolation price (I submitted one last year to my lecturer who wants it as a coursework assignment, and I didn’t win anything. So it was either 1) I suck or 2) he didn’t submit our stuff).

... which made me realise that I’m running the risk of not being able to make the Malaysian Young Writer’s competition. This is my last chance… oldest contending age is at 19. I hope it’s not past the deadline. So brush up the writing skills, JE. You’ve got some serious writing to do.

Anyways, if I’m not mistaken, there is a worldwide novel writing month or something, in which people pit themselves against themselves in trying to write a 50000 word novel before the end of the month. No prices, though, just achievement. And I want to DO it. The best excuse to get myself starting on my novels (all which will probably suck, though, but it’s something good to get off the mind. Unrealized ideas are a weigh in the mind).

Time for me to turn in… and see if tomorrow will still be an optimistic, happy day.

This, I gotta see.

Goodnight people.

Word of the day: apotheosis ~1. Elevation to divine rank or stature; deification.
2. An exalted or glorified example; a model of excellence or perfection of a kind.

Currently reading: Staying Alive by Matt Beaumont.

Song of the day: Complicated by Avril Lavigne.