Harnniann and his music

Temperature: 16 c

Weather: Fog

Steve, thanks for reminding and resurrecting a part of me which has died for quite some years now. Until you mentioned about Marilyn Manson, I have totally forgotten I was once a fan and worshipper of hardcore metal rock. Now, it looks kind of silly for me to question people who dance on the dance floor near the speaker, when years ago I was banging my head against the speaker of my electric guitar and enjoying every moment of it.

I was so crazy about music then that our class organized a concert and all the songs in the concert were composed by us. Thanks Stella for sending me this long forgotten picture, “SISA” which stands for Senior 1 Science A, my class. The logo was designed by a classmate who has left us in this life. It brought back a lot of great memories. But, I don't remember seeing Bom sang in the concert, I think he was in charge of ticketing and ushering. : )


I even had a band called “Winnie”. Despite all the adversities (mainly lack of cash), we managed to set up a band room and purchase all the basic musical instruments to jam. It was a burning passion then. The band members could cycle a few kilometers thus risk lives in the crazily dangerous traffic just to be at the band room to jam our music. We even made a pact: in future, when we have our own house, we will reserve one room to be renovated into a band room. Of course, none of us keeps the promise.

The burning passion did die. Fortunately, before this band was dissolved or died of a natural death, we had the one chance to perform on a proper stage. It was our only chance. The song we sang then was “Bitch”. I still remember me holding the microphone, shouting “I'm bitch, I'm a lover, I'm a child! I'm a mother, I'm sinner, I'm a saint...” Those were the days. Many of you who knew me only after I have started working may not have seen that side of me: a skinny rock punk who plays an electric guitar with a lightning stripe.

It was not surprising that someone was expecting me to pursue my career in music. My teacher even advised me where to further my study in music. Of course, I didn't 坚持. Somewhere between college and university, the passion for music just naturally faded away.

My point is: I was once very “dreamful”. Now I am not too sure whether I still have a dream. One day, my father called me for a chitchat, he told me “有梦最美”. He told me not to give up hope in China, because hope is what drives us, pushes us, motivates us and gives us a reason to continue with lives.

This brings me to a statement made by my former boss Eric. There is a difference between chasing a dream in China and living a dream in Malaysia. I am 27 this year, is it too early to “live” a dream in Malaysia as opposed to “chasing” one in China? Malaysia may have all I want now: a job, a car, a house, a wife, a family, a group of friends, etc. But Malaysia might not be able to offer what I really need: a future.

One must walk out of the comfort zone to realize how comfortable the comfort zone is. Because staying too long in a comfort zone may eventually diminish what potentials you didn’t know you have until you are thrown into the sea and have to learn how to swim in 60 seconds before you are drown. If you survive, you will know how to swim. If you don’t, don’t get drown: walk to the edge again and wait for someone to push you back into the sea: that way, you get another chance of learning how to swim.





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