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To sacrifice your passion, or sacrifice for passion?

"Yann Martel was born in 1963 and lives in the Canadian prairie province of Saskatchewan. After studying philosophy at university, he worked as a dishwasher, a tree planter, and a security guard. Then he began to write. Life of Pi, his second novel, was published to international acclaim in more than forty countries and won the 2002 Man Booker Prize."

Words can't express how I admire people who study courses that aren't guaranteed a 3 to 5 thousand pay for fresh graduates. If only I could be that person. Only thing is, I don't know what my passion is. Also, I'm not filthy rich.

It just isn't practical for people in countries such as mine to pursue such paths, since an overseas education would cost both my parents' life savings, or probably put myself in an endless amount of debt. Why spend few hundred thousand to be a dishwasher/tree planter/security guard? Then again, education in western countries isn't exactly free, but I assume that it's much more affordable.

That's why you don't see graduates from obscure courses over here, but a sea of business graduates and engineers. Maybe it's a culture, a norm. Maybe because we're a developing country, where obscure professions are not of a necessity. Then again it's probably also not a necessity in many other places ... I have to stop contradicting myself.

Though I doubt my true passion is to have a doctorate in philosophy, zoology, marine biology or English literature, I hope that whatever path that I'm about to venture in would eventually be fruitful and not a waste of time -- or probably given a second chance when I decide to leave everything behind to pursue something that makes all the difference. (*hint* famous poem reference)

Now, off to actually read Life of Pi.
-Kritz

The Sudden Urge

Currently lying on my bed, grabbed my phone to blog about this despite having exams on the next day (technically, on the same day).

So last night (once again, technically this morning), I dreamt about the recent grandmum that I just lost. For the past few days, I have been having all sorts of dreams that were disrupting my sleep, better no dreams than sweet dreams really (unless it involves 4D numbers ...). They didn't really made me felt anything ... But this was different.

I saw an image of my grandmum, a really strong and clear image of her, and I started to tear. Then, I woke up. She wasn't doing anything in my dream, just saw her standing there, looking like the years where sicknesses haven't gotten the better of her, gradually draining what was left of her old and fragile self.

Funny for this dream to suddenly appear to me. Chinese use to say one would dream of what normally crosses their minds during the day, but I haven't been thinking about her these days, not to say that I've forgotten about her or anything.

What if she appeared in my dream to bless me during my exams? Then again, how does blessing works? To think that parents will always teach their children to pray for their ancestors' blessings before the altar.

Makes me wonder about the after life. Is it really there? Will I eventually be in a place where all the people that I've lost are there waiting for me? It wouldn't be pretty if Christianity is true because chances are - if all the teachings are true - my grandmum will not be in heaven. Then again, what are the odds of me ending up there.

Wanted to tell my parents about this dream I had ... But I didn't. I didn't want it to just let it drift into my sea of thought, therefore decided to immortalise it in words despite having to sleep ...

Can never forget the day I cried so hard when she passed away ... Probably related to why I am always looking for movies that could make me cry ... Though I have yet to find one ... Then again, it's all fictional.

Whatever it is that my subconscious mind wants me to achieve through this random rambling post ... I hope it works.

ps. Blogging on my phone sucks.

-Kritz