December 3, 2015

Hey readers, how have you been? I know it's been quite a long time since I wrote that number thing (the post below). Damn, I feel rusty. But no need to worry, I still am your sarcastic, opinionated and whiny writer. Still am too much of a critic and a btch in the core. A lot of stuffs had happened surely in those times I've been 'missing' and frankly enough, I can't share all of those to you. Well, not here, not now anyway. Fortunately, an occurrence led me to a thought; "Fck, I need to write this out. Let it out. Let the world knows. Let the world learns from my missed out." Yes, I had quite an urge to write just an hour ago. I first decided to write on this social app called Dayre but it was not enough. So I decided to fix a thing and two on this blog's interface before I write. And here you go. 

This post is not an essay. It's a pure whiny post. Really. Save yourself.

I am sure all of you are well aware of my inability to draw. Dang, I even wrote a post about it (read it here). The thought hasn't been a bugger for quite some time, yay. I've learnt to accept it, reset my goals and plans, even trying to live and breathe in this accounting air. Talking about being a grown up here, people. Taking responsibilities and shit. I said to myself plenty times that I just need to get through this phase of ... let's just call it grimm phase. Then all of these will be over, soon.

I am a sucker for planning. I plan everything. I plan for what time I should wake up, what's the maximum minutes I need to finish my shower, even I plan on how not to look like a drunkhead exiting my car. So I did my planning. I know I can't draw. And I will not hold an art degree. So I did what any normal people with functioning brain would do : research. I researched every majors known to men. I need to find my major. A very major that would hold my quarterly pieces of few talents running in my veins. A major that would save me from a job at an accounting firm or some bank that I'll know I'll hold a tantrum every single working day. A major that would allow me to work in my favor, probably that will need me to be a permanent resident in either Canada or New York or Boston or San Fransisco. A major that is promising in both growth and salary. A major that I could excel at. A major where I could grow and make a career out of it. A major that could be a very foundation of my empire. A major that would make me happy. I found it.


Why publishing? Okay, let me break it down to you. My highest talent is to comment on things and I am really good at it ... so an editor. I happen to know how to write, take a decent photograph, make nice layouts and branding stuffs and I am hip af yo! And oh, I read, like disgusting amount of books. And articles. And essays. And lits. And and and ... I really really want to work at Penguin Random House, to polish my résumé and experiences before I start my own Publishing House.

My parents, for some kind of reasons, want me to continue my study in Canada. Preferably Toronto or Vancouver. New York, though I would kill to study and live there, is out of the question due to some considerations such as money and criminality. So I (again) did my research. I found out that University of Toronto, which is the only uni I want to attend in Toronto, doesn't offer a M.Pub. degree. But SFU does. And it happens to be in Vancouver! Yooo! So there you have it :

Graduate Program. International Program. Master of Publishing. Simon Fraser University, Vancouver, Canada.

Though some constraints do apply in SFU's :

1. They don't offer financial aid. Because I'm not a local. And I am pretty sure their scholarship is not what I'm aiming for. I'll work in a coffee shop or some theatre to make extra cash, but not scholarship. My brain hurts.

2. The very few seats available on each semester. Or year. I'm not sure. But the number covers both local and International students from all grades and majors. You read that right.

3. No dormitory. Because it's a graduate program. And I don't like living with another people, especially those whom I barely know. And the flats near campus are flat out expensive. Get the pun. Not to mention the commute .. meaning more money to spend on public transportation.

4. They have this supplement program where the students taking publishing major are obliged to learn cost accounting, financial accounting and stuffs. I am not sure if I still have to take those supplements because I will become an accounting major graduate anyway. And it costs more money. Of course.

Those 4 constraints, along with other constraints such as I'll not come home for 1.5 years, I can't cook, etc are somehow tolerable. So here goes my plan : 1 semester left .. then thesis .. then graduation ... then master degree .. then job in Canada .. Permanent Residency .. be a Canadian. Or New Yorker. Or whatever. A rich one, I hope.

But then, daddy dropped the bomb earlier today.

"It's just another year left. Do seek for scholarships."
"I am pretty sure SFU doesn't offer a full tuition-free scholars. Especially in that very major."
"Then take the govern exam. They offer scholars."
"And yet again, not for SFU and that major."
"Then it doesn't have to be SFU."
"But only SFU has that major."
"Finance then. I am sure every uni has that major."
"Or search in Singapore. Or Malaysia."

Godamnit, Dad. What do my parents want exactly?

I've vowed to myself that I would NOT spend more years, more efforts, more time, more energy and certainly more money to study something I don't have a heart in. Nevertheless entire lifetime to work as a pretender. Enough is enough. 

I am selfish. I want my degree. I want my career. And I want my happiness.

So, what does it all got to do with my inability to draw? Well, just a hint, a friend of mine tagged me on instagram, showing of her work, loud and proud. It's a sad thing really, something so ugly came out of some hand that is clearly a hand that I've always wanted. A hand that could draw. It's an irony really, someone could be satisfied with something so ugly, especially by looking at her real talent, and I'm just stuck here .. imagining about the things I could do and how I would not even be in this position if only I have her ability.

Finally, it's 00:11, and I'm laying on my bed, typing this, contemplating life. And very hungry. And out of plan ....

Being a grown-up sucks.
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