Category: Thoughts

I enjoy dreaming. It’s a hobby though it’s not something I can control. If I had my way, I’d dream every night. It’s like combining two of my favorite pastimes into one – watching movies and sleeping. The best part is, I don’t miss anything (unlike falling asleep in the cinema),

I’ve always been curious about the significance of dreams. Most of the time they don’t mean anything. But there have been times where I have acted on my dreams for no good reason. I mean, they’re just dreams right? No need to kick up a fuss about them. That’s what I did anyway. I remember I had a dream that (after looking it up online) signified I was looking for a change in my life, and I decided to take it to heart – so I quit my job. Granted, I was already thinking about it before the dream, but the dream somehow prompted me to finalize my decision.

But looking back, it was confirmation bias – I was looking out for some sort of sign to justify the idea. I mean, it wasn’t like I quit my job to start the next Facebook or go on to be a successful entrepreneur. I didn’t have to act on it immediately, but I did it anyway. I did the same thing in my first relationship too. I asked god to give me a sign, and when she asked to end the relationship, I agreed because I thought that was a sign from god. Again, I was young and dumb (now older, still dumb) and it makes no sense to me now. But that’s just how life goes.

So anyway, I’ve had some pretty vivid dreams over the past few weeks, some outrageous (like meeting a person who turned out to be a ghost), and some realistic (ever dreamed about going to work before? I have). Last night, I dreamed that someone I knew was a mechanical keyboard fan (that person probably has no idea what a mechanical keyboard even is) and showed me their collection of keyboards. It sounds stupid, I know – dreams usually do, but I find it fascinating that your brain can stitch together your thoughts into a somewhat cohesive (at the time of dreaming) story line.

Sometimes you have no idea if it’s a dream, sometimes you do. Sometimes you’re in control, sometimes you’re not. It’s like going to the movies without knowing the title or genre of the film. You’re in for a treat every time (I’ve probably had some boring dreams before, I just don’t remember them since they were unmemorable). One thing I’ve noticed from all my years dreaming – if you don’t record down what you dreamed about the moment you wake up, details become increasingly harder to recall with each passing second.

I’m still looking forward to the day where we have the tools to record our dreams. I wonder if they’ll be as interesting as we seem to think they are, or just random nonsense. Which reminds me of those apps that record your speech in your sleep. I’ve always been curious to know if I’m a sleep talker. However, I’m also afraid that I might record some shit I don’t want to hear (i.e. me saying creepy shit, or voices other than mine in the room in the middle of the night).

“Dreams should just stay fading away” – Jason Chan, 2017.

I’m not sure if it was ever implemented, but I remember reading about the ridiculous ban on foreigners as cooks in hawker stores in Penang a while ago. I mean, I am all for eating tasty food but I honestly think people are being racist if they think that foreigners can’t cook food as well as the locals. I mean, come fucking on – it’s just cooking. Your race doesn’t define your cooking skills. You know what does? Your patience and determination to learn. All the practice you’ve done in the past. Your experience working in the kitchen. Where you’re from has nothing to do with your cooking skills – or any other skills in life for that matter.

Sure, there are restaurants out there that have dropped in standards but it’s not because of foreign cooks. Correlation is not causation. It’s because the cooks who were trained to cook those meals weren’t sufficiently schooled to do so. Blame the restaurant owners who let the cooks prepare unsatisfactory meals.

Maybe being from Malaysia helps. If you know how dishes ought to taste, it’ll help you when it comes to tuning the flavors. That’s the only advantage I can think of but it’s also something that can be learned over time. If all you’re doing as a cook is following an established recipe down to the T – there’s no way you can fuck it up right? If you do, you’re a person who is bad at following instructions. It doesn’t matter where you’re from. There are people all over the world like that.

Just because you’re Malaysian, it doesn’t mean you can inherently cook good Malaysian food. I’ve tasted bad local food from local cooks too. On the other hand, I’ve had local dishes prepared by foreigners that I would recommend to people. What does that mean then? Absolutely nothing. In the former, it was a case of incompetent cooks and in the latter, competent cooks. It had nothing to do with where they were from.

I honestly believe that if nobody ever saw who the cooks were (i.e. they were all behind in kitchens), nobody would complain about foreigners cooking. Just because they see a foreigner behind the stove, they’ve got a scapegoat. Because local chefs obviously can’t do wrong. It’s always the fault of the foreigners.

Foreigners are people too. And there’s a reason that restaurants hire them. They’re willing to do the same jobs for lower pay. Most of them come to Malaysia in search of a better life. What’s wrong with that? Malaysians do the same thing overseas. Would you like it if you weren’t allowed to work just because people in other countries complained about you not being a local?

Anyway, all I’m trying to say is, judge places by the food served and its service. Not where the cook is from. A shitty cook is shitty no matter where they come from.

If you don’t like the food from a certain restaurant anymore, file a complaint, if they value your input, they’ll listen to you. Or you can go elsewhere. If enough people stop going to a restaurant, they’ll make the necessary adjustments to survive. If they don’t change and they still survive, they’re obviously doing something right. In the meantime, you can go elsewhere. There’s so many places to choose from.

Getting rid of foreigners isn’t going to solve the problem. Also, if the demand for food by locals was so high, wouldn’t we see a lot more of them cooking instead? Just be glad that there are people there who would gladly cook for you in the first place.

You know today, while singing along to Mayday Parade’s Jersey, I thought again of how poetic names of places can be in songs – when you’re not singing about Malaysia. All the names of our states here don’t really go well with English lyrics. I mean, sure I could put them in, but they would sound pretty forced. At least that’s what I think. Bangsar, Genting, Penang, Malacca – none of them have the same ring as Ocala, New York, Vegas or Austin. Why is that? I think it might be because they aren’t English words to begin with. Then again, those names aren’t really words either. Just names in English. Also, how can you write emo lyrics about a place called Happy Garden or muddy confluence? Maybe you could, I never really tried it. The closest I’ve come is using “long drives up state” in a song. I guess I just need to try harder to find a city/state that can work in a song.

It’s great being from KL during the long holidays. You can drive around like you own the streets because there are no other cars on the road. It feels good not being stuck in traffic jams. I wish regular days were like this. Then again, if they were always jam-free, I wouldn’t appreciate it as much. Just kidding. I dislike the fact that my favorite cafe is closed for the holiday though. Oh well, people need their rest too.

After gambling for about three hours last night, I walked away with RM4 profit. FeelsGoodMan. I’m not much of a gambler, but I do enjoy sitting around with people who rub their cards in hopes of changing their values. I guess it would be boring to gamble with a table of Georges. These guys add a lot of entertainment value to a regular session of Black Jack.

Waking up late really is a waste of your day. But so is sleeping early. Sleep feels so good. But you only have so many hours in a day and so many things to do. I remember when I was younger, I’d hate having to nap in the afternoon. I was even beaten as a kid if I didn’t want to go to sleep. These days, I’d gladly go to bed in the afternoon given the chance. I could also wake up within a second when my alarm clock rang. I guess I just grew lazier as I got older. These old bones aren’t as responsive as they used to be.

The other day my cousin complimented me on my watch. It’s nothing fancy. Some cheap Aldo watch I purchased from Zalora because I had some vouchers to use. Regardless, it felt kinda good. Like I did something right. People rarely compliment me on my fashion choices. Probably because I’m nowhere near fashionable. I just put on stuff that I think looks good on me, and most of the time it’s very plain. Nothing fancy. I guess I’m not a fan of loud clothing. Especially shoes. I don’t understand how people find neon colors on shoes attractive – they look so obnoxious. Different strokes for different folks. Then again, my favorite color is brown so who am I to judge?

Every time I listen to a nice song, I feel compelled to share it online. In hopes that someone would enjoy the song as much as me. It makes me happy whenever that happens. It’s like validation for my taste in music even though in the grand scheme of things, it makes no difference whatsoever to my life. Unless our future turns into the Black Mirror Nosedive episode. I wonder how popular I actually am on the internet. Googling my own name doesn’t tell me much. There are way more popular people with the same name on the internet.

Using the wayback machine to see some snapshots of how my blog used to look is pretty fun. But man, my writing was so cringeworthy back then. I don’t know what I was thinking, hitting publish after typing out so much crap. I can’t recall my original site URL back when geocities was organized into neighborhoods. Those should be a fun read. Haha.