Breath of a Breathless Soul

Life of a prisoner
As if I was a criminal
worst than a slave.
My mouth is sealed with thread,
by the thick needle which poke through my lips.
My voice echoing,
trying to break out from my throat.

Unreasonable commands which they forced me to abide,
unbelievable facts which they tried to make me buy,
unbreakable rules they wanted me to follow,
sucking every breath out of my soul.

Fell into this so-called higher institution,
Fell into this invisible shit hole,
Fell into the deepest point of my life,
I just hope I don’t turn out psycho.

Racist Bastard

There are so many different types of people in this world, same here within this high-class invisible jail. There are the PRETENDERs, the RACISTs, the SELF-FISHs, the FOLLOWERs and so on. The guy, who sat right behind me, is a RACIST shallow bastard who hates foreigners deep down inside his heart. Even though there are other juniors who he could refer to when asking about chemical stocks, he will not ask those with the same skin color and facial features as him but me. The thing is, he always ask with a frown on his face as if it was my entire fault that the chemical stock is out. While doing that to me, this racist bastard is super good to the other female junior who has the same race-line as he is. What a bastard! What a racist bastard!

Ordinary person

“I’m not Svante Arrhenius; I’m not a robot; I’m just an ordinary person.” It was the status of one of my labmate (senior) on the messenger today. The word ordinary suddenly reminded me to something that I’ve learned in one of my undergraduate class (western civilization), where one of the very interesting concept we discussed was about the “Ordinary Evil” by Candance Vogler. It was about the man who came up with the gassing massacre of Jewish people during the Holocaust.
Suddenly, I felt like everything around me is so unpredictable. I could not even tell what evil or good is; what ordinary or extraordinary is; what normal or abnormal is? But, are those questions even important? In Buddhism, ordinary and extraordinary are not any different from each other. Good or bad, they are the same. If I could break through this confusion of these questions, I guess I will be the freest person in the whole universe. However, I am just an ordinary person.
Good night.

The Scent of Solvent

The scent of solvent,
gushes into my nostril as I step into a place called laboratory.
The scent is invisible,
but the minute particles of solvent diffuse into my blood,
and then trigger my nervous system to inform me about the less pleasant odor.
Not only that the stench is obnoxious,
those small particles could cause damage to skin and even brain.
Solvent particles are evenly spread in the air as time pass by,
without any awareness,
they can be the invisible murderer,
that causes slow or rapid fatality.
Walking in to the lab,
into the cloud of transparent solvent,
is the same as walking into the well of death.
And yet, so many of us,
is walking into it every day.
The scent of solvent,
rushed into my nostril as I step into the well of death.
Perhaps one day I might be able to create something,
which might be beneficial to the world here.

Rainy Day in July

July 9, 2009 was a rainy day. Heavy rain poured like waterfall from the sky onto the road. Velocity of the falling rain generated energy which was strong enough to repel raindrops from the earth onto the surface of my sneakers. I wished that my sneakers were those water-proof boots, and then my socks and feet wouldn’t have gotten wet. It was uncomfortable to walk in wet shoes; I could feel water going in and out of my socks every time I lifted my foot and took a step forward.
Out in the rain, everybody looked different than usual. Some looked rather worried with their eyes frowning while they proceeded towards the destination; some looked excited as their footstep seemed lighter on that layer of rain water. Everybody around had their umbrella to protect their head from getting wet as acid rain could make your hair drop gradually. In my country, I never had that concern about hair dropping or acid rain. Perhaps it was because we were lack of awareness. I remembered myself soaking wet in the rain and refused to go under the shelter when I was in secondary school. It was after the fitness class on my school field. I could see myself running with a bunch of good friends under the rain as if we had nothing to worry about; I missed that feeling so much. I missed the taste of freedom.
I just found out on rainy days, the synthesis of some polymers do not work well since the humidity influences formation of the product. Thus, I did almost nothing today as my polymer membrane which I was supposed to use for permeability test broke. I guess I was just not good at making the test cell. I guess I was not Jack of all trades after all.
Rainy day in July, only two hours left to come to an end.

July

July
I was in Amsterdam last July, for two days. July, my favorite month of the year. It is not because July is the beginning of monsoon season in the South East Asia or the American Independence day, but because I was born in this extraordinary July in 1985. This year, I am twenty-four. It is a huge number to me, one more year to the silver birthday, one step closer to thirty and so on. I am not really afraid of getting old, I’m indeed praying so hard so that the next year passes by faster.

relief

Feeling rather odd now. This is not the feeling I was seeking for after all the hesitation in the past few months. Why am I feeling this way? Is research and master degree what I’ve desired all along? Despite all the long working hour and privacy invasion from those aliens, I actually liked what I was doing. Maybe not passionate about it, but I liked it.

I woke up an hour early today because this was supposed to be my first day at a new work place. Slightly further away, and completely different from school. I felt bad for both sides, school and the new employer because I’m currently lying to both sides in order to seek what I really want. By telling school people that I am sick, I am able to work in another place to experience the working life that I was wondering. If I dislike the workplace, I am planning to tell the other place that it was some scholarship contract that not allows me to work. In between, I am able to go home early today. Maybe I can do some shopping and other stuff that I like.

Travelling on the subway for more than an hour journey in the morning actually give me a bit of a taste of working life. I notice that there’s a clear line between school and work. Besides the long working hour, school does not require much out of you, mainly because they are not a capitalistic institution. However, companies are the opposite. Corporations are the results of capitalism.

So now, I’m at my work place. And as I step into the office, I immediately know that this is my first and last day at work. I can’t proceed here because I see no relativity with me. Here, they are doing marketing work that I thought I might like. But as I sit there, listening to their negotiation over price with the suppliers, I feel like I am the worst candidate for this job. I don’t even feel like talking to clients. The negotiation session seems to be fascinating for the manager, but to me, it is rather stressful. Maybe I should just complete my graduate school and teach in some college or high school.

Long day, Long month, and long year, as I guess my life is kind of fun when I look back. Like a maniac who strife here and there to seek herself, I ended up being on the same spot. I think I can’t work in an office and that is final.

Today, I feel relief because finally I have made up my mind to leave the options behind.