I Don’t Feel Like I’m Working

You know what my problem is? My problem is I do not feel like I’m working.

A famous quote from Confucius said, “Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life”.

I’m a living example of this quote because I seriously do not feel like working at all.

I love my job. Not to the extend that I’m married to my job. I do have life outside my job.

The thing is, I strongly believe our lives are too precious to stuck in a bad job. I don’t see the purpose of working your ass off for one year just to take that one week to enjoy your life.

Life is of course meant to be more than that.

I recently had a conversation with my boss.

Knowing that I never really travel outside Malaysia before, he advised me that I should go out the country more often.

“Save for a year and travel. Do it alternately”, he said.

I thought his advise was reasonable. I had plans before, to travel within this year. Perhaps to Thailand or Philippines because it is affordable to my budget.

But I thought to myself, if I were to travel might as well make it far right?

So I’m going to head out there. Most probably in 2017. And Nepal is on top of the list.

For now, I think I need to find a job. Not my current job of course. This is not consider as ‘working’ for me. Maybe a business at the sideline.

I need that job to pay for my extravagant, faraway travelling.

And I also I need that job because now, I don’t feel like I’m working at all.


In a different angle

Every time I sit down to write something especially in my current line of work, the first question I ask myself “What is my angle?”

In fact, I asked that question on my way to every event I was assigned to.

Being an online journalist at a youth-based website gives me the freedom to be creative in determining my angle. In the same time, it is terrifying.

Terrifying in the sense that the angle would not be the right angle to draw readers’ attentions.

A week ago, I accompanied Danielle to her interview, her assignment was to write a personality piece on Scottish photographer Gerry Fox who is currently based in Kuching.

His photos were in completely a different angle from any photographers in Kuching I have seen so far.

They were all blunt, unadorned. But they stop you at your track, pull a trigger on your forehead and shoot you a question; do you know all of these are in your backyard?

I want my articles to be like that. Something that stop your brain from churning and squeeze a question or two to make you rethink your view.

Read more about Gerry Fox’s interview with The Borneo Post SEEDS here.

Book and Coffee or Tea


Few years ago, when I was still in my undergraduate years, whenever I read in my hostel room I imagine myself reading in a café with a cup of tea in an arm reached.

My bunk bed was my retreat. I usually did not have any drinks with me

With a budget of a student, although I did not have a study loan I was fully relying on my parents. It broke my heart every time I had to ask for extra money from them before pay day.

So I couldn’t ask for extra money just for me to indulge my fantasy of reading in a café with latte, couldn’t I?

There is something about reading and sipping coffee or tea to be considered as a pleasure.

If it is in the morning, coffee would be good to me.

If it is in the evening, tea would be perfect.

So here I am here in a café called The Coffs, located just at the corner of Lane Building. When I walked past this shop few days ago I knew I must try this place out.

I knew I had to come back here again with a book and order a cup of coffee or tea.

Since it is five in the evening, I ordered tea.

Earl Grey, that is.

My book? Kitty and Virgil by Paul Bailey. A random book I bought from Smart. Yes, there is a bookstore in Malaysia called Smart.

Perhaps only smart people go there.

Perhaps smart people came up with the store.

As much as I enjoy my me time with a book and coffee or tea. My elder sister is with me. She is having caramel latte.

No coffee art. The caramel was drizzled messily on the coffee form. “It’s cold,” she said. Commenting on the latte she’s having.

There is nothing in my mind actually, except my boyfriend; my government servant boyfriend who is now in the middle of nowhere on a Penan longhouse.

“I am serving the rakyat,” he said.

Did he safely arrive? I pray he did.


Here I am, in this café I randomly chose; I like it except the people in the next table. I hope they will be little bit quieter.

Suddenly I miss that bunk bed of mine. At least that bunk bed is silent.

I hope the next time I choose a café; it would be just me, a book and coffee or tea.




What would the Bronte sisters think?

Someone posted on Facebook; one of those photos with quotes or funny jokes on it. But this one said, ‘Smart is the man who can earn a lot of money, smart is the woman who can find one.’ It is not the exact words but the meaning is more or less the same.

When I first read it, I don’t know what to make out of it. There are women out there who unceasingly fight for their rights, equality with men and then there are some of us just prefer to sit down and wait for the men to feed us. I come from a traditional Kayan family. Kayan is one of many native tribes in the land of Borneo. I consider myself to be traditional since I speak my mother tongue and practice the ‘do’s & ‘don’t’ of any Eastern culture. But one thing that I realized divides my parents upbringing from other typical Asian family is my parents hardly mention marriage. My siblings and I are raised as Catholics so marriage is highly regard as a sacrament rather than a license to ‘legally’ consummate your relationship in the eye of the government, society and God. My parents never pressured us to get married and have children but my own self who worries that one day I might grow old alone with 21 cats.

The Bronte sisters had to publish their books in fake names because female writers were not easily being accepted in the past and now we have women who comfortable being known as someone’s Mrs rather to be known as their own names. I’m not a feminist, I assure you. Maybe I am saddened by the situation or just disappointed with my fellow women. Women who are just wait around, doll up, and flirt around hoping to score a well off man for a husband. Who am I to judge right? If they devout their lives to be the greatest mums whose children become a prominent figure in society, like a president, scientist, teacher bless their hearts! St. Monica must be with them in prayers. But to eye a man just based on the balance of his bank account is repulsive to me. Wealth and fortune are blessings that easy to find but hard to keep. Compassion, respect and honour that come out from a man nowadays is even harder to find let alone to keep! I’m so proud with women who know what they want in life and couldn’t care less what others might think. For example, someone who can say to the society, ‘I want to be a soldier and I happy to be one.’ To be someone who is not confined by the expectations of society. I’m not living in a the Bronte sisters era but I might as well have. Telling to the world that I long to be a writer coming out from a girl whose first language is not even English is like a sheep telling to its herd it want to be a cow.

The whole point of my rambling is it’s disturbing for me to focus your life just to find a man to provide for the rest of your life. Where is the love and passion in that type of relationship? Is it ‘Till broke do us part’ for these people? Or ‘Till unf***able do us part’? As what I said before, who am I to judge. I don’t want to come out like slamming any wives out there. I don’t mind to be called as someone’s wife someday. If only the Bronte sisters were alive in the 21st century, I wonder what they would think.