I just landed a job! Applied for fun last night. Got a phone call this morning that I was shortlisted and to do the test. Got called back that I did really well, above excellent. I type 71wpm, apparently. So yeah, now I'm just heading down to do the registrations and paperwork. Hello new career. Thank you Jesus!

Move Forward

It's finally October and I can't wait to drink beer! Just kidding. First, I don't drink beer; second, I don't drink alcohol. I'm back to update you with the crazy coaster circus I like to call 'life'.

As you all know (When I say all, I am assuming that I have readers), I have been in a rough patch in life. It started with the breakupdown of my classy ex-wife. Then the dark clouds of cold winter whims got into my veins before I realised that it had reached my brain.

Fast forward, my journal has never been messy like ever. October's been a mess. A good mess. Photo above is a reference that I have sold my little humble prostitute ride, Ka. She was cheap, but I thought I'd stick to something that was meant for me from the beginning. I actually had a whole day of running around from one side of town to the other, then back, and a lot more just to earn this lovely lady I'd like to call Applesauce. I hate putting gender to things, by the way, so I'm just using this (insert appropriate type of figure of speech here) right now. It was the first time I actually made a lot of effort on a material possession, spent money on and willing to take the risks involved. So today, little Ford is gone, thought I had heaps of sentiments about it which I have to admit has been only a sensational exaggeration of being materialistic.

Today, I dressed up as a business dude-- with the coat and sleek leather shoes, for a job interview which I aced. I hope it will all go well. Then a geek, which I thought I looked cool although it wasn't meant to be? I mean, GEEK, not nerd. I'll try to put photos up.But right now, I'm sitting on the floor on my underwear typing this update. I run another 5 blogs, so I thought a bit wrap on what's been happening with me:

1. I moved out from the hollows of the Adelaide Hills.

2. Two blocks from the beach and the shops is where my humble abode is located.

3. Mind has been totally restored, if not renewed.

4. Been working heaps, as a facepainter Woody.

5. Got a new car, a sexy one.

6. Trying to get rid of my acne, this time for good (hopefully).

7. Back to artistic and creative pursuit.

8. Have a guitar and I practice at least once a day. Wuut.

9. I got a gym membership! (Doesn't mean I go)

10. I eat ALOT of fruits. Yum. 

11. And nuts.

12. No more sugar.

13. I might get a new job.

14. Oh by the way, my collection for my shop is complete!

15. Not starting it until I become more financially stable.

I am such a happy kid, I like to pass the positivity to everyone, and I hope everyone could do that too. The world would be so much better! I have become who I was years ago... and I am so happy. No words could explain what I am feeling right now. I'm no sticky tape or wet rag. This is my life, and who knows if Judas was actually the good guy.

Long live, ek oh.

Ditching the "Smart Phone" is smarter

My blog shall be generic soon, and thus, it doesn't matter because you're probably the sole reader of this chronicles anyway. I don't care because this is a channel of expression, and yeah. Okay, enough.

While everyone's dying or possibly wasting their life waiting for the new iPhone 5S or C (I will), I am longing to be using the old-fashioned telephone. I know that's a bit too full on, so maybe I will use a semi-smart phone that I used to have a year ago.

I didn't bother to go on Facebook, like every spare time I had. Scroll on instagram, just to see photos of what's what-- but I don't really care. I like Twitter, because it's a random shoutout site, but then, I have Twitter on my old side-slide Nokia.

PROs:

• I don't waste time on Facebook (especially when getting up in the morning)
• Not being anti-social on Social networking sites
• Real communication
• Old-fashioned, hipsters like that

CONs:

• No GoogleMaps
• No random-people-near-me chat apps
• No good quality camera
• No tweaking things to make yourself look good (e.g., filters)
• No iMessage, kik or Viber
• I will not be able to use 4GB of mobile data

I'm done here, just take me back to 2008. When people texted personally and not a general announcement about what happened to them, reinforced with stupid, smart comments. I'm guilty, but I'm trying to get out of the crime. Rant over.

Garage Sail

Sailors and mermaids! It's been a few weeks since I updated my chronicles. I have been busy living a life like of a sailor. Packing up few clothes and sailing around the broad waters. It's a fun life, it's full of motion and action. Even in your sleep, you get vivid dreams of living in that unknown parallel universe. Buckin' Buddha, love garage sales. 

  Vacation Land Bag 2 // Calligraphy Set 2

 Patterned Backpack 2.3 // Paper Wallets 2 x 2

 Tarocash Suit 10 tagged 149.95

 

 Black Connor Shirt 10 tagged 59.95

 

Grey Connor Shirt 10 tagged 49.95

Always try to look for things in the area where it seems like it was the rubbish pile or the heap of disease. Disinfectants are cheap, and just base it to the seller if they look like a hooker or if their home looks like it's been plagued with supervira (plural of virus?). You'll most likely find unused stuff, and always try to haggle because they really don't care anymore-- and they hate annoying buyers, will likely to give up after a little bit of insisting.

 Brown Leather/Suede Vintage Jackets 5 x 2

 Vinyl Record valued at least 30 haggled 1

 Unused Flasks 4 ; 8

 Brother Typewriter 45 haggled at 30

I never intentionally go to find these babies. However, this mecca of pre-loved holy grails called Morphett Vale in South Australia, never seem to run out of decluttering households. Every drive to work or back, I always see signs on the main road with makeshift cardboard signs of garage sales, sometimes 4 or 5 at a time. I don't buy new things because to me they have no soul and character. Yes, I think objects can have them. Connotation to the movie, the Conjuring. I didn't post some of the other insignificant and less-manly objects I've bought, (e.g. a dildo, I kid... or I might not be) So yeah, keep an eye in your neighbourhood because one man's trash is a poor prince's treasure! Bon voyage!

Okay, fine.

Never in my whole life have I thought I'd ever do something illegal (and get caught), like speeding. Yes, I'm impatient but I always abide in rules. I'm such a goody grandma to be risking things. I also happen to be the biggest frisky frugal fool in town. I tend never to spend the earnings I make as much as I could, then tend to hoard all of that in the hopes of becoming a multimillionaire moghul one day by my super saving skills.

So just right before I have set my goals and packed up my life to two or three small overnight bags for a breezy, Santa Monicasque lifestyle; I got a letter that seemed so friendly from the outside. After opening it, my world semi-crumbled. It was an expiation notice, it's an odd word, I think. If you'd ask me what expiation means, without looking the dictionary... it means-- I can't come up of anything, so maybe it's a made-up word.

With a staggering amount, I was blown away like the speed I was driving that 13th of July. Okay, fine. I have to pay it. To me, it was like an obstacle if it's going to change my decision or not. Is it an omen? Hopefully no. Please God. I had to scrape money off my bank account just to get it out of the way. Now, I have a two digit figure in my bank account. It's quite inspiring, actually.

Now, I've become to the bourgeois bohemian that I naturally am again. I might start doing crafts to make a little bit extra money. 'What can I do?' isn't the question. I'm glad that I'm certainly alive, and that it just seemed like some cheeky c-word robbed me, and that's it. I worked extra hours for nothing. Irony of life, says the Paradoxataur.

Is it illegal to say something against fines? Oh shiz, I hope I don't get more by doing this. Well, it's good to know that the money I put in would be sent as financial aid to poorer countries. Seriously speaking though.

P.S.

My room looks like a display room, with only a little hint of life in it. It feels weird, but it feels bigger. Now it make sense why they do it that way.  

P.S. P.S.

What does P.S. mean? I just looked it up, 'Post-scriptum', more like Post-scro--ll... down to see the rest of the text.

ek oh,

x :: L

Hey May!

Assumingly that I have a regular set of readers, and they have missed my online existence... I know I am guilty of abandoning this blog. I've been complaining for the past two months that I have nothing good to do; wherein-fact I have roughly four journalism tutorials and assignments needed to be done. I have been battling with the struggles of my auto-mobile. I have been trying to look for a job that satisfies my hunger in the events and social sphere. I have been having a distracting myself off the distractions, my mobile phone, mainly. I have been trying out new looks: new haircut, bleached, dyed it blue, then ended up shaving it all off.

Every night, I would come up with the greatest 'life changing' things to do. In the morning, I'd hit the snooze button and wish that I could sleep longer. I drag myself out of bed, knowing that my dreams can only be a reality if I put action to it. I try doing some few stretches, and telling myself to keep doing it until I go really fit and stretched. I tried reading, but I realised that watching movies are easier. So, I would borrow a stack of DVDs. They are amazing. I found out that the genre I prefer would be some concoction of romance and comedy.

Reading is a struggle for me, I don't enjoy fake people going through their 'adventures'. I always end up reading the first few chapters then return the book prematurely. Then I realised one day while at the Coventry that I actually like reading-- I take time reading the signs on public squares, the inscriptions in the statues in the park, the small plaque with 'in memoriam' written to it. I like reality, it all came back to me. I like reading things that based on actual events. When you read something that I know that happened is like reading a history book! Now, I am reading "Yoga For Those Who Can't Be Bothered Doing It" by Geoff Dyer. I'm sure I borrowed the book because of the cover and the title. I can be biased for myself in many ways. I liked how he partitioned his book to a short stories, which I prefer, as well! He also uses titles that seem very far off but in reality, it comes from it. Dyer is my hero, whoever he is.

I donated blood last week, for goodness' sake. It's not like giving used blood wouldn't do me good. It's actually food for the soul knowing that I can do something for humanity, by losing something that will be replaced anyway (my hair shares this story, too). Answering through the questions in the form is actually scary. What if I said 'yes' wherein it's actually 'no'? Then, you'd sign the declaration at the bottom with the warnings of penalties, fines and even imprisonment?! The thought of it is scarier than the needle in my arm.

Well, also the end of March, the night after I met my French Angel... We went to the Fringe night, where I danced like a 1920's penniless sailor under the stars. The next morning, I had the atmosphere in my face. Yes, I had the worse acne breakout I ever had. My confidence was then sucked to a black hole, and I followed in the hopes to get it back. Now, my face is clearing up but I'm left with the scars. They say that scars make you stronger, and definitely uglier too. I haven't been publishing but I've been writing my thoughts in a visual diary. It's so messy, like my mind.

The French Angel

“When I was in school and in college, I got told I am brilliant and very exceptional from my teachers. Well, at the moment, I think I need to get back on that track. I am falling apart, working on jobs that I thought I never had to go through. I had plenty of good experiences and none of them matters anymore. Maybe I should start depending on my own and my God and not to the people around me anymore. It’s either I drive home safely or drive off a cliff (kind of) situation now.”

After posting that status, I prepared to get off the stop near the petrol station in Belair. Yesterday, I had to catch the return bus to go back and go to where I parked my car, at Sheoak Café. I didn’t want to do the same mistake from yesterday especially that I am lugging 5 cans of some Asian preserved goods in my bag. I was on my phone, talking to a good friend from high school through Kik, she’s now in Canada and going through the similar situation—‘mid-life’ crisis; I was also talking to this really matured young man that seems to inspire me in every word he states.

5th March 1963

I was just listening to the Beatles today. I like writing, but I always preferred using the type-writer. Don't you like how it made things a lot easier? I might go to the plaza to get a new suit tomorrow. JFK is on the telly.

Stolen identity

Well, last night was fun. I thought Blackwood Railway Station was the best spot to leave my car for an overnight parking, but I was wrong.

I was just approaching my car when I noticed that the rear plate was missing, then I went in the front and saw it missing too. Really? Nothing else was stolen! They even didn't muck up anything. No scratches, no attempts to steal anything.

They solely wanted my identity, so they can do petty crimes with it. Now, I'll be driving this plate-less car, and get pulled over by cops every now and then until I get my replacement. Just my luck, but I'm lucky they didn't try to steal my shoes inside.

My feet starts to itch again

Bounded

Yesterday was Australia Day, I will put up photos soon. I was with a mate for the weekend, and it was awesome. 3D Fireworks - 3D Katy Perry. Sober and child-friendly. Happy Australia Day, indeed.

I have nothing much to say really. I have nothing much to do today either. I feel bounded and trapped. "We are infinite." Are we really?

Society has set the rules. The government has set the laws. We are not infinite, we are not boundless. We will rot in mediocrity and conform to what is against our will. My prescription glasses gives me a headache.

Misleading Road Signs

Getting in your car and knowing where to go: you hop in your car, fire your engine, reverse to the road and drive to your destination. Then the awkward moment when you realised that you didn't know which way to take. I would normally pull over and take my GPS out and wait until it 'Acquires GPS signal' and input the address where I want to go. You are then directed, it tells you your ETA and all that, but most of the time, when you don't follow robotic lady, she redirects you to a longer and more complicated path. Usually she directs you to a bumpy dirt road as a punishment. I am not exaggerating things, but she seriously needs to grow up and get educated.

If a GPS is not in the picture, which likely makes it more difficult, it actually is like a joyride of loops. You figure out your way, and you take which road looks more familiar or less scarier, but at the end of it all you still don't know which path to take, if not a no through end. It is so annoying because this totally what's happening in my life, irl.

Even my car doesn't have an identity

 
Well, In 2010, when I was about to skip school because I got accepted in uni, I was certain I want to finish Psychology. I thought it was broad, and it would equip me to any field I want to engage; but no. I didn't enjoy it. I ended up taking another path, well, it was meant to be a little detour but I took it full-on and after the short course on my summer break, I boarded to the full degree-- I finished it because I loved it, however the end of the road takes me to an ocean. I need to catch a ferry to continue the trip. I did, but now there are more roads need to be decided which to take. 

Dora, where are we going?

I've been told I am a 'Jack of All Trades', well I think that isn't a compliment anymore-- it has turned to a insulting curse. It means I am capable of everything, but only to a certain degree. I can never be good at anything. On the sunny side up of the egg, at least I can do something. It's hard not to know what you want to do, and it's worse if you know what but you have too many options. I don't want to go to Uni. I think it's a waste of time, we've been in school trying to learn things in some other people's standards. I've been pondering if it was worth it. Well, at least in high school it taught me Chemistry, which is applicable in-- cooking! I'll come back for you Uni in case I've got nowhere else to go! For now, I'll be an alchemist.

Cheats in life I've learned in 6 weeks

(1) Time travelling is through taking photos and talking with friends, if applicable; (2) Flying is possible, you just need to hop on those planks with wheels; (3) You need no money to experience first class amenities, it's all for free; (4) Novels and parables are readily available from the mouths of wise unmet friends; (5) There's a free museum anywhere near you that is open 24/7, with exhibits waiting to be appreciated; (6) A free method of transpation they call walking; (7) Fresh fruits are fast food; (8) The universe is with us and it's our thinking takes us to wherever we want to be; (9) There is a place we can call home, and it is anywhere where we are happy, and finally, (10) The easiest way to win the lottery is to be content.

Happily homeless

Have you ever felt that you're just literally a dust? Like, there's nowhere you can call home. Nowhere to run back to whenever you feel like you needed to.

Today, I was a bit too early for work, so like what I normally do before I begin my shift, I read a book-- this time, it was The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, after reading a few pages, the lady I was seated next to initiated a conversation-- she was very friendly though she didn't speak a common language in fluency.

With her oranges and bag of sultanas that she was more than willing to share, she also shared that experiences she had in her life.

I am so blessed meeting all these people and hearing their stories. First, Mima, a Slovenian refugee that struggled for a better life in Australia; then Allan, an ex-school deputy principal who was secretly homosexual up until he decided to come out at 57; then now I am having this very wholesome conversation with Fikreta.

Fikreta is very lovely and elegant. She was telling me about her daughter, her experiences and what life brings forth for someone who seeks thrill in it.

As the conversation went by, and a frequent tutorial of a few words from the 10 languages she fluently speaks, I came to discover she was a writer, and she wrote books in many languages-- as often she wrote was as fond as she read. She read books from authors that I've never heard of, only except with Pablo Neruda.

I found her stories really brilliant, and I was more than inspired to travel. I felt like I was Santiago, and she was the old king who seated next to him in the plaza-- it was something like that, also that I was holding that book felt a bit weird.

I also remember she was singing to me in her high pitched melodic voice. She was an opera singer in Europe, and she had three voices: alto, soprano and I forgot the other one. Her lovely voice was echoing through the lifeless pavements and faded buildings of Rundle Mall, and she was unbelievably gifted in what she does.

Well, I think it's a good thing where there's nothing to look back to. You can just keep moving forward. You consider the place where you at for the moment your home, and life just never gets boring.

It's only when you don't acknowledge a blessing, it comes to be a curse.