Loft of an Eldritch Metaphor

the ode of joy and occasional misery

Posted on 29 May 2014

You would find only 2 selfies on my Instagram, and the rest being the shots of computer screens, some “sounds like chemical” stuffs that you would hear only from me, because most of times I make them up to make myself look cooler than the rest of my on-insta peers. Scrolling my Instagram, and my Facebook photos too, you’d only find the photos of RIT (my university) being the most abundant, my fingers with half-finger gloves gesturing ‘peace’ sign, and everything else but ridiculous selfies.

And gadgets, too. You won’t find any of them there. Or maybe one or two. Accidentally being the subject(s) of my lens.

Let’s get to the point. And the point resides within the dialogue below.

“Aizan, how do you define life?”

“Dedicated to get shit done. I mean, to get shit done with thermonuclear bomb of light and beauty… and bloods spattering everywhere, and limbs hanging there and there. It is thermonuclear anyway.”

Research Project

[Spoiler alert: the following texts greatly reflect the philosophy that has brought me to the position that I have now - an oversea student under government scholarship, that is “aim for the star to shoot the sky”]

“Aizan” Dr. Carter started a conversation, which I knew would result a frown on her face later on, “have you decided something for your research project?”

“It might be congenital anhidrosis… I mean congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis, or if not that I might be working on dimethyltryptamine, the DMT”

Yes she frowned.

No I can’t do both experiments in university lab. What’s more, if I wanna work on congenital anhidrosis, I’d be promoted to a position similar to any scientist out there working with military to enhance human - supersoldier. With another one being DMT, am I gonna design new psychedelic drug?

If I could get any of both projects running for my Intro Bio 2 research project, it would be a thermonuclear bomb of light and beauty, the mark of my achievement as an undergrad student who’s carrying out such mind-bending yet sumptuous experiment.

But clearly I can’t.

But still, aiming for the star to shoot the sky.

And then I ended up doing research on algae. Waste water treatment by using microalgae with Dr. Lodge.

I need to edit my philosophy.

Aim for the star to shoot the sky, but don’t surprise if you missed the target by 180 degree and the sewage below the toilet bowl is where your bullet met its grave.

“but I used Positron type C hyper-propulsion quad chamber fusion-controlled railgun, there’ll be no casing nor bullet head so your philosophy is deemed to be invalid”

“hush! I might as well put a bullet in your head”

But it is not that bad. This research would show me how good algae is at cleaning waste water than the rest of us leaving toilet bowl unflushed (I get that after taking such a disastrously monstrous dump, you have no energy left to flick the toilet flush).

“Do you ever need to mention your research project bro?”

Just for fun. That’s what I will do for living in the next few years onwards. Worth telling, it is. The last thing I want is being stoic on what I’m doing, being impassive while pipetting although the reaction between the solutions produced pops of “eureka!”. And I’m looking forward to be more cheerfully happy and untroubled rather than having a mind clogged with clusters of white papers to digest (more reason why human should have cellulase). I want to live a fulfilling life, no matter how many PCR or gel electrophoresis I need to do for the rest of my life.

The thing is, as a junior scientist/researcher, and also a tech writer for AmanzMy, not to mention as a bright lad with machete to kill whoever can’t google solutions for simple stuffs, telling the world what I’m doing and how, in the meantime, I wanna make others’ life less sucks, if not suckless, has become the motivation to move myself forward. Remember Hangout 3.0? It was a success. Personally, I hit another historical mark. I think I should get a medal for that.

“Dude, the whole thing you’ve written doesn’t make any sense”

Yes I know. Those are the threads, and the conclusion I’m gonna write next is the cloth, made from seemingly random thoughts. Except, they are not random at all.

Let’s define life (and lifeless)

It is a misery, at least to me. Like a watchdog or sometimes like a life guard during summer beach, the 3 most crowded social epicenters - the Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram - are within my arms’ reach. Particularly my peers, it is quite hard to know whether they are enjoying their life as a student or not. Whining, the vibes of negative (hormonal) thoughts waging a holy war against exams, quizzes, and homework, the neverending battles of undiminishing insults against mathematics and its kin… it is hard to tell whether they enjoy being a student or not.

And their social networks are filled with images of their faces enjoying the ephemeral joy of new shoes and shawls, ice creams of different flavors, limited edition Rayban and pricey Chanel. Things that last till an expiration date set by the manufacturers and factories are crowned every now and again, rather than lifelong treasure.

What’s that lifelong treasure?

My life dictionary defines a lifelong treasure as something expendable, and the trade further increases wealth.

That’s the reason why my Instagram has quite a number of photos of my university, Rochester Institute of Technology. I want to cherish every moment I’m here, the pivotal meaning of myself being a student. The experience that I have here in RIT with the knowledge as well I shall trade them by any means to gain greater wealth.

Worth telling that I am an exponent of meritocracy, but I believe too that the merit is compounded when others in need are given extra hands, provided they can find their own arse with both hands before requesting for more.

That’s life.

It is my ode of joy, tho occasionally the misery is at my doorstep.

But the misery; the bad luck, and all the “it feels suck” stuffs knock my door telling me “lava is hot, it melts everything in the wake of volcanic eruption, but know that obsidian is hard and brittle, had been used in the past as tool to cut and pierce. Weakness is real, but one can turn it into weapon”.

And I’m sure the second lesson is obvious.

Aim for the star to shoot the sky.

With that being said, I end my writing here.