there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I’m not going
to let anybody see
you.

there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he’s
in there.

there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?

there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody’s asleep.
I say, I know that you’re there,
so don’t be sad.

then I put him back,
but he’s still singing a little
in there, I haven’t quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it’s nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don’t
weep, do
you?

Charles Bukowski, Bluebird

Societal pressures pt 2

Can I write this w/o sounding too much like a NY Times op-ed article? I’ll try. And there’s no pt 1 because I deleted part 1.

On being a Malay guy in a predominantly non-malay world.

Can I still follow my own path? Feel like I’m being pulled in different directions now. Ever since I’ve finished A’s for some reason, the race card keeps appearing. I just want to go along doing whatever I want k.

On one side, there’s MENDAKI. It’s telling me, “Good job on your A level results! Now accept our commendation award and give back to your damn community. Come to our ceremony and shake hand with ministers! So we can tell the world we’re not totally useless.” I keep feeling this obligation to do more, be more. My brother met this girl in his uni camp and she said she knew who I was. Because my essays are passed around by the teachers to their classes. But if I met the girl, I probably wouldn’t have a clue who she is which makes me feel pretty bad. Then my mom has this understudy in Jurong who’s going to be studying teaching and on attachment. I’ve never even heard of her name. But she’s says she knows who I am and that my lit is very good. The worst thing is that she says I’m arrogant because I don’t mix around with the Malay community in AJ. The truth is, I’m just really socially awkward and I don’t really make friends that easily. But it makes me feel terrible to find out this way that people are badmouthing me behind my back.

There’s also the thought that I have to do well because of that. I feel like I can’t ever drop law because people will say “You have to continue! Do you have any idea how few Malay lawyers there are?” And it’s true because apparently in SMU law there’s only 3 or 4 other Malay students. I imagine it’s much harder to be a female Malay law student. I have to do well. I have to succeed. I’m not just doing it for myself but I’m carrying an entire race behind me. Or at least that’s what they’re telling me.

I didn’t bother applying for any scholarships because I didn’t want the pressure of having to do well every single time. But why is it there’s already pressure?

Medicine, law, business. Society’s idea of success.

It really shouldn’t be a big issue. I always liked Alfian Sa’at’s writings but always felt he was too fixated on race. But I think he felt the same pressures only much worse.

I told a friend about my interview a while back. He told me “wow it’s like being a black man in America.” I hated that comparison. Hated the parallels it drew. But I know it’s somewhat true.

Have you read “Mr Mercedes?” it’s like being Jerome in white America.

If this was a black op-ed piece, I’ll title it ‘The struggles of a sub-urban upper-middle class African-American in post-Obama America.” But it’s not.

I’m thinking of the MENDAKI Scholarship. Should I apply? I’ll be obligated to perform mandatory hours of community service and start giving back to MY community. I still have one half years to decide and applying doesn’t mean I’ll get it anyway.

I grew up in a predominantly non-malay environment. Which means no soccer at void decks, no matrep friends, no underage sex, no minah girlfriends and no smoking in the toilets. For the first time, I’m in a predominantly Malay environment. And it revolves around clubbing, Geylang, alcohol, smoking and bikes. And it’s kinda disappointing. And I still don’t feel like I fit in.

Post-camp writings and rough drafts 2.

//
In the style of Rumi and Hafiz

You still don’t understand
None of you do

I’m not looking for love you see
I’m waiting
to stumble and fall
and exalt in the glory That is
Love

If that doesn’t happen
Why I’m perfectly content
To walk along this path alone
Until I reach the end

or

Until I find a stone
that manages
to trip
me

//
Time seems to be passing us by
Why,
Both of us seem to be standing still
While the world marches on around us

//
Menghirup kopi
Udara segar
Burung merpati
Terbang melintas
Batas pagar

Jangan lautan hendak diduga
Jika kalian tidak berupaya
Tentu sekali akan binasa
Kembali pula kepada yang maha Esa

Tapi kami tetap akan berusaha
Demi masa depan bangsa dan keluarga