Thursday, January 31, 2013

House of M: Open the Gates

I read that this year, the only traditional media that is projected to grow is outdoor advertising. Everything else is on a downward trajectory.

I also read about industries that do not invest in digital media face losses between 900 billion to 1.3 trillion US dollars. I read it somewhere, but I misplaced the link.

Of course, these numbers are released by people who are now in control, people who have great influence over the dissemination of information and communication - the Internet people.

I read these predictions and viewpoints with mixed feelings. A lot of people I meet - especially those in the media industry - do not understand digital media at all. Even those working in the very same industry.

Managing expectations will become crucial to digital media people. First up, the worst, most ill-informed comment I heard about the Internet came from some powerful people who said that the Internet is 'the Underworld'.

That is true, in a way. The Internet started as a porn dispenser. Well, no, it started as a military thing that became commercialized  like Hummers. But yes, the Internet's first real success - to me - was as a place to trade porn. I remember using IRC to trade porn for Windows wallpapers I renamed. There was a system where if you allow people to leech 1MB worth of pix, you get to download 1MB worth of pix from the other guy. I used mostly pictures of scenery before hoarding a respectable reservoir of titty pix.

Anyway, the Internet as 'the Underworld' was true until the mid-90s. These people who view the Internet as such are about two decades out of sync with the rest of the world. And they also believe, they would tell me, that the Internet is a passing fad and that one day, all the kids will stop using social media and pick up newspapers and we would all go back to using asbestos and eat lead paint off the walls.

There is another group who believe the Internet as some sort of magic wand, capable of reviving flagging sales of their bullshit products or turn their brand images magically into powerhouses. Here's the truth: if your product is a steaming pile of shit, no amount of spin on any media - traditional or new - can make it better.

And if you have a blog or a Twitter account, and you put forth your views on them, it doesn't make you important. It makes you some guy who has a blog and/or a Twitter account.

And it's TWITTER, not TWEETER.

These things are merely tools. Know their intended functions, know how to use them and most importantly - know and understand people. End of the day, these things allow you to reach to groups of people and you need to learn how to talk to them and how they think, what their culture is, in order to engage properly.

I have seen and heard media experts make unfounded, totally bullshit claims on the effectiveness of their digital selves. I have seen monkeys jump up and down over insignificant bullshit they did on their stupid free websites.

I have seen people claim the impossible, promise the moon and the sky as they ejaculate to their own images in the mirror.

If you want to understand this thing, as with any thing, you need to experience it and be on it, experiment and get educated. There is no other way. And always listen, but never listen to people who claim shit.

I have seen my fair share of conmen, even those who perhaps do not realise they are con artists. Ah, fuck them. Suck my dick.

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

The Rock, Rumble, Receipts and Resumes

So, I was angry these past few months and I guess I wanted to write something more uplifting, especially after watching The Rock's speech on WWE's Royal Rumble.

Well, I guess not everything's bad. I am waiting for payment on some of my personal work. I hope they pay me before the end of January, because some have been delayed for so long. Try two years.The money couldn't come at a better time, though. I hope I get it soon.

I managed to hit deadlines for all personal projects, which is cool. Now I can tackle my novels. I have four lined up and, as an experiment, I would like to try and write all four at once.

The reason being I get bored easily. Jumping from one personal project to another with no deadlines that could affect other people is a good thing. However, I cannot be greedy or crazy. I know of one person who claims he has written 60 novels, but none of them were published. And I think he's got a few screws in his head loose.

Funny thing - when some people find out I write stuff, some often question me. Did you really write this or that movie? Did I write that? Which part? How about all of it, you stupid piece of shit? Yes, the good parts as well as the bad parts.

It was as if I was in a circus and these people are poking me - the circus animal.

I am not in the habit of publishing my entire resume on my website or even treat Facebook profiles seriously. I have nothing against people who do, like how I have nothing against Justin Bieber fans. And yes, I have done all those things I said I did. Because I'm not a liar like your mother. And you.

The problem is, my resume is now 4 pages long. I am a firm believer that resumes should be one page. I started off with one page, but it has grown. I know of people who have resumes over 20 pages long and though the number is impressive, I believe any CV more than a page long is superfluous, including mine.

I believe I need to do some editing on my resume.

This is due to the Author's bio behind books. I wonder what I should write there? Most authors write half a page of a paperback. Especially the best ones. My bios have been very short. This is because I believe there is no way a few hundred or a few thousand words can capture the essence of a person. Bios are meant tp be a bit of fun and a bit of insight to the person it is describing. Not a full CV, surely.

Nobody cares if you went on a 3-month course for some stupid shit thing. Who gives a fuck?

Ah, man. I got a breakfast meeting of sorts. I should get some sleep.

Sunday, January 27, 2013

Intermission: The Warm-Up

I'm finishing up writing a medium-sized project at home tonight. So before I continue, I'm gonna warm up a bit by writing something completely unrelated.

I was really angry these past few months. Really, really angry. Instead of assuming my aspect as Lord of Destruction, I decided to find a better way. A better arrangement.

In the beginning, it didn't start off like that. I just wanted to whine and moan. Then, things started happening and one lead to another and here I am, standing amidst the rubble of darkness and depression, with a plan, armed with nothing save for my wit, and my will. Just like Lucifer. Yay!

I sometimes get people coming up to me and say, "I believe you are a creative person." They mean it as a compliment of sorts and I always thank them. However, in my understanding, everyone is creative. Anyone can do whatever anyone else has done. Van Gogh painted stuff. You can paint too. Alan Moore writes comics, you can write too. Anyone can do it, but not many has the passion, the energy, the wit or the will to do so.

'Being creative' is nothing more spectacular than being able to breathe. There is really no romance in there, seriously. It CAN be, but more often than not, it isn't.

I am at an awkward phase where I see the past work of people before me, as well as the stuff the younger generations are propping up. I see the mistakes and the triumphs, the success and failures of people who claim they 'do art'.

My greatest worry - which is severely misplaced because I should only worry about myself - is when people 'do art', regardless of the medium, to be loved. I will not condemn any motivation to do anything because that would be unfair, but I have seen so many people who do things, expecting to be loved, and falling into the great pits of despair and stayed there for years.

I did things for recognition when I was in high school. I wrote a lot of short stories. 17 short stories a year, so I could please people. So I could find a function for myself. My audience was mostly students who were happy that someone is doing what I do so they would not have to do it, so I guess it pleased some of them. There was a small group who were extremely egotistical - we were teenagers, so that's our excuse - whose sole reason for existence is to 'take people down a notch' so they just hated everything. Most don't give a damn.

It was around this time, after leaving school, that I realised nothing really matters. Since 'the arts' is subjective, no opinion is truer than the other. So that means every viewpoint is worthless.

I see sometimes people who try to break out from normal conventions and establish their own style, which is commendable. And then they try to force their ideals down other people's throats. They walk around with chips on their shoulders, believing themselves to be the intellectual saviour of the masses. They believe themselves special and 'above' the fold.

I sometimes parody them, going around claiming I am the Greatest Mind of the 21st Century, that I am the Best in the World. It is meant as parody, but insecure fucks believe me when I say so. I have facepalmed myself in the toilet so many times when I see these brainless peacocks react to my prodding and poking.

I see all this and I go, "Meh." I am far more self-absorbed and self-centered to think about other people. I am, after all, the Greatest Mind of the 21st Century.

My great mission was to do what I want and get paid handsomely to do so. I wanted to become a well-paid writer. In Malaysia.

This is unheard of, of course. There are Malaysian painters who make hundreds of thousands of ringgit from one piece. There are singers, musicians, actors, directors, who make tons of money. But never writers. Writing, in itself, doesn't really make serious money.

Even writing films - a lucrative profession in the US - pays you small change. Say you get lucky and someone offers you RM50,000 to write a script. It's a decent price. How long would it take? A year? Two years? How long would it take for them to pay you? Three months? A year? Two years?

50K divided over two years is like, 2K a month. And that's 50K.

Books? A novel pays you around, what? 10% of the actual price? If you sell 2000 copies - which is a decent run - you get RM4,000. How long would it take for you to write a novel?

A lot of people I meet - new people - always have this familiar glint in their eyes. They believe they are special, that they can make it, that they can score the imaginary millions unlike others who have failed to do so. And I must say, yes, everyone is special. Everyone has a story to tell. Many stories, in fact.

And yes, the potential is there. However, having unrealistic expectations or having any expectations whatsoever is a formula for despair.

I'll tell you my motivation - I write for money. I don't expect people to love me. I have no desire or need for that. I am the last child in my family - I have never had any need for attention. My personality ensures I get attention, which can sometimes be cumbersome and annoying.

And then, realising there is little money to be made from writing, I have acquired other skills to take care of my expenses and write for fucks.

Yes. In the end, that is my true motivation - I write for fucks. My apartment is clean. Now, who wants to fuck?

Friday, January 18, 2013


I was working at home when a friend called me up and asked me out for a drink.

He wanted to start a business, a physical shop of some sort, a brick-and-mortar extension of his online business that sells things.

He obviously has made his decision on what he wants to do, so when I asked him why he wanted to talk, he said he merely wanted to bounce ideas off me.

So for some reason, I explained to him, at 12 midnight, at a mamak shop with lettering on the sign more befitting a Chinese restaurant, CAPEX, OPEX, A&P as well as marketing budgets. I felt like I could use my corporate powers for good, and so I did.

Since everything is about me, I also bounced off some story ideas for various platforms. I am working on new, or perhaps old, but new to me, media platforms on content delivery, as well as finally write the stories, novels and scripts I have promised people these past two years.

I had an idea for a sports movie, but since all Malaysian studios rejected that story, and I myself do not believe any production can pull it off properly, I believe it could work as a book. A novel.

I have so many things left unwritten, it drives me crazy everyday. However, I believe everything happens for a reason. All this delaying writing all these things down have given me some time to mull them over in my head.

I am confident with some major changes I am making in my life, that I could finally go back to these ideas I have ignored for so long.

"Don't tell me you want to write forever," said a person to me, condescendingly, years ago. The answer is yes, I do want to to write forever. I see nothing wrong with it. I like it, and writing has given me so much joy.

People do things for different reasons. Many writers I have met said or implied they write so that other people would say how great they are. I find this extremely insecure, but I understand. I had the same thoughts when I was younger, thinking, "These writings are so bad, if I improved just slightly, I will be hailed a genius!" And make money.

I made some money. Not a lot. And I can safely say that I do not need people to tell me I'm a genius. I know I'm a genius. The greatest mind of the 21st Century.

Writing, to me, is communication. I've always had problems communicating my great ideas to idiots and monkeys, so writing is the best chance I have of conveying these thoughts and images inside my head.

Sometimes, you find some people at certain points in time when you can bounce ideas with them without having this feeling that you're talking to a monkey, or a white-faced gibbon, and that's cool too.

I am blessed to have met quite a few in my lifetime and it is my resolve to spend more time with them rather than on idiots, monkeys and conmen who do nothing for my blood-pressure.

I am grateful that some of my family members are also highly intelligent and we could converse on a level I am comfortable with.

For example, I read a lot about religion and can explain to another what tetragammaton is (the voice of God and an order of police officers practicing gun-kata in the Christian Bale vehicle Equilibrium) and they can tell me how alpha particles in radiation work.

However, communication doesn't only happen at an intellectual level. You can also communicate at an emotional level, and the stuff I want to do, both for my professional and personal projects this year all have a mixture of both. I hope it works, but if it doesn't, if none of it gets through, I'll still enjoy the process.

SOme people wrote that most things start with an idea. Neil Gaiman said that all things began with a dream. I have many ideas and a lot of dreams, so I have started many things. Now, I am looking to finish them.

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Destruction of the Imminent

Today, I took leave to meet some friends in preparation for some things. A few did not turn up today, but I had more than enough company.

Met some new people as well, these traditional Malays who did not believe my career path.

"How did you end up doing this or that?"

Well, I have some skill. Some glimmers of talent, but mostly it was truckloads of luck. Never discount luck and lose your head. I mean, I never conned anyone into thinking I could do what I could not. Always been truthful, either in success or failure.

I also used these past few weeks accumulating a lot of information. What I found is that different people have many different viewpoints on things, even if they saw exact same thing happen right in front of them. My curse is that I can see multiple opposing views of the same subject at the same time. I can see and agree multiple sides of an argument.

Some people call this intelligence, but it really bothers the shit out of political types who need to peg people into neat little boxes on an Excel sheet.

I'm not even a lalang or a flip-flopper. I am what you call a Chaotic Neutral. I am also exclusively on my side. And perhaps the only person in Malaysia honest enough to admit it.

Some say my honesty is stupid, but I have survived, even excelled at times with just being honest. Not being afraid of the truth means you don't have to give a fuck. I did the Peacekeeper jazz for years, but in the end, who the fuck cares, eh?

Just a bit more information and I'm good to go. But first, sleep.

Monday, January 14, 2013

Lose Yourself

Tales from the Two Drinks Side: The Measure of a Man

The measure of a man is not his dick. Surprisingly.

It is about whether he honours his words. One broken promise would lead to millions of other broken promises and one lie will generate a billion other lies. I genuinely believe lies destroy the world, obsessed I am with the truth.

Growing up, I realised that in this world of lies and liars, I would either have to kill myself - since I don't fit at all - or I can force the world to tell the truth.

When I heard it for the first time, when I heard the truth, I wanted to puke. But truth is good medicine. For the worst ailment affecting mankind - delusions.

I am a creature of dreams. I belong to Dream, but my aspect, my function, is to determine reality. To assert and determine what is and what is not. Information flow. Remix reality. All that jazz.

Before I embark on the next step of my journey, I ask myself - am I ready to risk everything? Is everything worth it? Or am I pitting one cloud castle with another?

Hope the mortgage is low.

But my dick is strong, and my balls are hard.

Friday, January 11, 2013

Sastera Klasik Melayu, Tradisi Oral dan Kubur Idea

Aku pernah mendapat komen tentang skrip yang aku tulis.

"Bro, ko lain kali jangan tulis la pepatah Melayu. Aktor ko takleh nak bawak."

Reaksi aku simple. "Pepatah kejadahnya?"

Maka ditunjukkanlah pada aku babak itu.

Ternyata, pelakon fumble kat satu pepatah yang bagi aku amat biasa. Untuk tujuan perbincangan, mari kita gunakan pepatah yang tidak berkait - "seperti kadok naik junjung".

Ada ramai anak Melayu yang akan sebut pepatah ni macam ni: "seperti badonk-ka-donk naek jinjuinginguing.". Serius.

Dalam dunia moden sekarang, aku yang aku sendiri kira hanya berilmu bahasa sederhana, sudah boleh dinobat, malah dinafirikan, sebagai Sasterawan Negara.

Antara soalan yang mengejutkan aku - maaf, membuatkan aku terkesima - adalah kata-kata ini yang terpacul daripada mulut seorang penggiat seni - "Ko buat cerita pasal Pak Pandir ya? Pak Pandir ni sapa?"

Pada masa itu, aku rasa seperti lewbank jewboor taekku sewpertiew dirodok logam panas bernyala api lancip. Aku rasa seperti sebaldi petrol sejuk dicurahkan pada badan aku dan ada seorang Orc daripada Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers berlari ke arah aku sambil memegang obor dan, walaupun ditembak dengan seratus anak panah, telah menyalakan petrol pada badan aku.

Aku pun terbakar dalam kesedaran yang Bahasa Malaysia sudah semakin terpinggir dan tidak lagi menjadi bahasa yang penting. Budaya penceritaan Melayu sudah hampir pupus. Juga, aku sudah tua dan tak lama lagi, kulit telur aku pun akan menjadi lebih berkedut dan kerepot.

Aku pernah cuba menulis cerita Pak Pandir dengan mereka kembali watak itu sebagai seorang yang pandai dan bukan bodoh-bodoh alang seperti yang diceritakan oleh datuk aku.

Cerita asli pertama Pak Pandir yang aku baca, dia pergi menggetah burung. Lepas dah tangkap banyak, dia lekatakan kat tali pinggang dia. Lepas tu dia terbang dan mendarat kat istana raja. Melihat ada manusia yang 'turun dari langit', Sultan percaya dia dewa kayangan, lantas menjodohkan puterinya dengan Pak Pandir. Apakah persetubuhan ini? Maksud aku, what the fuck?

Bagi aku, ini menunjukkan Pak Pandir bukanlah seorang yang dangkal, dungu, bodoh atau lembap. AKu rasa dia ni macam wacky inventor. Pereka yang suka melancap.

Jadi aku cuba buat cerita latar Pak Pandir.

Nama sebenar? Pandita. Sanskrit untuk mamat pandai. Tapi sebab dah pandai sangat, dia kena sumpah sampai dia gila atau bodoh-bodoh alang. Panggil dia Pandir. Bila tua jadi Pak Pandir.

AKu saspek Mak Andeh tulah puteri raja yang dikahwinkan dengan Pak Pandir, masa dia 'turun dari langit'.

Aku nak buat komik, tapi aku dah tak ada masa. AKu rasa macam nak mengumpul semua idea aku yang haram takkan keluar, dan terbitkan buku bertajuk 'Ideas I Had Which Seemed Like a Good Thing at the Time and Now I Will Never Write' atau 'Ideas'.

Okaylah, mari aku senaraikan idea aku yang aku rasa takkan ke mana:

1. Kenapa Adib Mengamuk - sebuah homage kepada Rashomon dan stereotaip filem Melayu

2. Nusan - siri animasi 7 musim pasal 7 sekawan yang hidup dalam dunia purba dan berlawan dengan empayar seperti empayar Kushan sambil menangani kemelut politik setempat. Kisah yang mengumpulkan SEMUA lagenda dan mitos Asia Tenggara dalam satu dunia. Penuh adegan 'satu lawan seratus' seperti animasi Berserk.

3. Ninja Vs Bomoh - sebuah filem nasionalis komedi yang tidak memualkan.

4. Haven - siri animasi sains fiksyen 3 musim pasal masa depan manusia yang gelap dan berakhir dengan Matrix + Megazone 23

5. Baki - sebuah filem lancapan terulung pasal lelaki yang fikir dialah pusat alam semesta

6. Anjing Lapar Melahap Tahi - jurus hikmat yang aku cuba sempurnakan

7. Khinzir Yang Halal - sebuah 'fable' pasal seekor babi yang ingin menjadi halal

8. Ko-Op Cikgu Mat - cerita pasal bapak aku bukak ko-op

9. Nama Aku Batman - homage kepada 'Mere Naam Joker' Cerita pasal awek tiga orang yang dicintai oleh seorang Jawa bernama Batman Bin Suparman.

10. Matinya Sebiji Pankreas - sebuah drama emo pasal kencing manis

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

My Speech When I Come Back from Winning the Nobel Prize in Literature

I can't wait to have more time to do my own personal projects and finally win the Nobel Prize for Literature.

When I come back from winning it, here is my speech to you, my countrymen:

Well, hello, there. See this thing around my neck? To the monkeys and baboons, this is what is called the Nobel Prize. I won it for literature, which proves that I am the Greatest Mind of the 21st Century.

All you fuckers may kiss the ground beneath my feet, AFTER I have walked on it and not during or before. Especially not during me walking on this earth, or that earth or whatever.

To all of those who wish to say something to me, I say this - shut up. Did you win the Nobel Prize? Do you have the Nobel Prize hanging from your neck? No? Then shut the fuck up.

I would like to take this opportunity, to make fun of idiots I have met in this country. You will all be the subject of my next book, called "Spiteful Idiots I've Met and Why They Should Die by Insertion of Hot Metal Through the Anus".

It will be a grand book which celebrates intelligence and good grace, while highlighting, in stark contrast, the buffoons and actual, literal baboons most of you are. And why you should all die by insertion of hot metal through the ass.

I must also be gracious and admit to my own failings, as all great literary figures are wont to do. I admit that I have always believed, deep in my heart, that everyone is stupid, except me. This belief is fueled by the fact that it is true. A fact proven by this thing around my neck. What's it called, again? Oh, yes, a Nobel Prize.

What is that? You want to adapt my writings to songs and movies? A theatrical play? Well, now. I do not believe that anyone other than Jean-Pierre Jeunet has even the bare minimum mental capacity to grasp my work, let alone translate it to other mediums.

So, no.

Oh? And what are my plans afterwards? Well, I am not gay or anything, but I would like to spend the next 50 years sitting at home, while a line of people - you people - come and suck my dick. While I write "Spiteful Idiots I've Met and Why They Should Die by Insertion of Hot Metal Through the Anus".

Also, I would like to make a request. Since our education system is so bad, I would like to call for the bottom 99% to be killed immediately. This will ensure that I only get to meet smart people and never have to suffer from the sight, sound or the fury of idiots ever again.

That is all. You can go home now, and weep, or start sucking my dick.

Friday, January 4, 2013

Who the Fuck Cares?

Tonight I went out with some friends for dinner and a movie, and also heard about the pettiness of humanity.

I have taken my medicine and am now quite drowsy, but I must say whatever anyway.

First, some friends and I got some really bad reviews for our work, written anonymously by perhaps some of our 'mutual friends'. My advice to them was to just don't give a fuck. If I had paid attention to bad reviews, I would have killed myself a long time ago.

In fact, I was quite entertained by said reviews because they accused us of being 'Mohamadeians' - a term I have not read for decades. It entertains me because of all the effort it took to be spiteful and harsh, and how I could do it better, with half a teaspoon of bena-expectorant and one tablet of Actifed. Wheeeee!

Amateur reviewers take great pains, thinking people actually hang on to every word, every opinion they say. I have reviewed things for almost 10 years. Not that long, but long enough to know that it doesn't matter.

One review I wrote earned the ire of some 'powerful' people so much that they threatened a lawsuit, and they kept mentioning it for the next few years to anyone who would listen. A few YEARS. Now THAT'S a scathing, impactful review.

And yet, I remain as I am, and they remain very powerful in their circles. Nothing has changed.

The point is, and I can't repeat this enough, whatever you do, 3% of the people will love it, 3% will hate it, all for completely different reasons, and 94% don't give a fuck.

I am much more concerned in encouraging more people to do things rather than doing reviews, because reviews do not forward society, culture or anything. Especially in this day and age where everyone gets a say. And I thought the whole point of my generation - Gen X - was to not be told what to like and who to like.

Also, if Babe - the greatest movie ever made - could not reach 100% at RottenTomatoes - then what hope does any of us have?

A more disturbing thing is about a writer who has published quite a few novels - more than most of his contemporaries, certainly more than me (just one so far) - and have enjoyed some success, and then, when bits of his perhaps disturbed psychology surfaced, and some people tried to poke him online.

I do not care to speculate their motives - jealousy, perhaps? a feeling of being lied to? - whatever the fuck, I don't give a flying fuck. I just don't think picking on people - mentally unstable or no - as something you should do.

This sheds some insight as to what monkeys we have degenerated into, as a society. We deserve our leaders, and it is no surprise then that one of the leading politicians impersonated a monkey quite publicly, shouting 'ka-kaaa! Woo hoo hoo!' and manages to get the support of many.

 So, just do your things, man. I thought all those shows in the '80s and '90s with the ugly clothing and bad rapping taught all of us that nothing and no one really matters. And that at the end of the day, the work that you have done is much more important than the work you have never done, but wanted to.

Stop being such cowards and just write and do shit, shoot films or play songs or whatever the fuck. No one gives a fuck about you, so revel in it and do what you love, because only you will love your own work. You will regret not taking the plunge than taking it and finding that you got a bit wet, or bumped your head on a rock.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

2012 Part II

Well, we did it. We're in 2013.

Already, I feel things inside my head settling down. I have a direction for myself. I have a 'what', which I assigned myself.

I have yet to sort out the how and who, but I believe it will all be made clear in the next few weeks.

What I've learned in 2012 is that time is wealth. Real wealth. I can get as many jobs as I want to, and I'm not being arrogant or vain. There is always work, and I have always respected my work.

I don't know and don't care about other people and what they value. I don't even care enough to speculate. For me, doing the work and doing it right, within the given time limit is the most important thing. This is integrity, that when you promise something, you deliver.

I have only once in my 9 year career have failed to meet a deadline given by a client. It still stays with me, and it still stings. The fact that the lost opportunities meant a real loss of RM78,000 for me personally makes it more so.


We live and learn.

And never make the same fucking mistakes. 2012 was a year for experimentation for me. A lot of the experiments failed, and I hope I have learned something from things and that new collaborations and sifting through the sludge would get me glitters that could turn out to be gold. Hopefully.

If I could describe myself to anyone, it would be that I am an eternal student. I constantly pick up new skills and knowledge, new way to do things, as I adapt my thinking to how people do it.

It is strange, I believe. My family is made up of teachers, but I grew up to become a student of whatever I believe is interesting. I am glad that I do not know everything because that means there are things I can still learn.

My methods are quite risky. I throw myself into things until I hit walls, obstacles and find out the limits of my environment, the people around me and also my own shortcomings and limitations.

All this training, this grinding for experience, the failures and triumphs - for what? I like to imagine I am preparing myself for something. All the knowledge and skill and network I have accumulated over the years point to a solution to a problem. But which one?

Only time will tell. Now, let's go off to the next HIGH ADVENTURE.