The aquarium fish is gone. In fact they are all gone since a few months ago and i didn't even notice that. And they are the little peacock fishes that my dad breed and feed. I remember sometimes, we will sit at the stair steps and admire them. How they can swim endlessly in circle around our little 24 inch long aquarium, trapped. And how sometimes we neglected them but dad will always remember to fed them and even clean the aquarium regularly. It has always been dad's work. And now. No more.

When my mum told me over the phone that the fishes died out of hunger and they are going to move the aquarium away, i swear i didn't cry but my eyes went all sore right away. The first thought that strikes is i don't want this change, the aquarium reminds me of my father so so much. I like the noise, the splashing sound from the aquarium. And those spectacular turbulence flow they created and even how my sister makes weird noises around the aquarium and literally play with the fishes for hours. And how my dad will lecture her on that habit and she still do it again the next day. I don't want to miss the feeling where you are all alone in the house but you know the fishes are with you. It's different.

Yet.

I realize how versatile life can be. One moment you have this and the next moment they are gone. How the group of friends changes and you might shift around like sand, wondering where you belong. Sometimes, looking at the ones you called as close friends moving on and having fun without you, you can't help but feel a pang of hurt. Th only thing you can do is shrug it off because you know you shouldn't feel that way. Being all 'carefree' and flexible and busy. Being all grown up. And you wall up. Yea. It rhymes.

So conclusion? Shucks. I'm just feeling not well tonight. I guess they shouldn't dispose the aquarium. It's making me very melancholy. And the song Amnesia by 5SOS. Now look at the essay and theory that i've came up with their decision. Oops indeed.

Good night.

" 一邊說無所謂 一邊卻淚流滿面
面具底下 我們都是自己的傀儡 "

We sometimes said never mind, but inside, our face is wet with tears.
All because we are fools under our mask.

韋禮安 & 面具

作詞：韋禮安
作曲：韋禮安

Because when you grow up, you wear different masks and facades as you go around. You never foreseen yourself as someone who smiles when she's heartwrecked; who hide away when complication strikes; who try to be okay when she is not ok; who wants to please the world even when she's broken inside. Someone who seeks perfection but she's not.

Because simply, you feel safe behind the mask. :)

Hello there, my name is Sam and I'm a third year student taking Chemical Engineering in Curtin Sarawak. Back in primary and secondary school, my ambition is to be a teacher, like my handsome superman Apa-dad. And then the time came when i need to make a choice. Apa said: "try A-Levels" so that one day i can get a degree overseas (and travel) and one year later, I found myself completely lost on a crossroad. Apa looked at me in the eyes and said: "it's okay as long as you did your best". You see, he never lose hope in me. But is that my best?

In the following year, I worked as a part timer in Dell for 3 months and got a glimpse of what it's like to be in the working world. I admit, it's boring to be stuck in that daily routine. I looked at Apa and Ama and wondered, how can they live for more than half of their life doing 'the routine'? I quickly put that thought at the back of my mind and in 2011 July, I found myself enrolled in Curtin University, flew across South China Sea and stepped foot on the land of Borneo. I am not an adventurous person or a risk taker. I like to play safe and insured in the grounds i'm familiar with. And so this is one of the boldest move i've ever did back then and i know i wouldn't have done it without Apa's faith in me. Plus the money of course.

In an effort to shake off 'the routine', I started to open up and participate in clubs and activities and this that and made acquaintances and true friends and even left a little red mark in Curtin. My ambition-turned-aspiration is to become a lecturer now. I reported these 'paranormal activities' to Apa and he said: "go ahead as long as you can handle your studies". But I did not. My academic was affected and I started to get less than 5 hours of sleep everyday. Finally semester break came. I went home and I show Apa my result. His handsome face tells me he was worried but he said: "as long as you do your best". I felt awful. That's not my best if i've focused more on my studies instead of curricular activities. I told myself i'll do better next semester and without realising it, I've made myself a routine of 'next time'. Next time I'll clear my table. Next time I'll cook for Apa. Next time I'll make my scrapbook. Next time I'll blog. And the list goes on everyday.  Time flies and everytime i went back home, i found new wrinkles and white hair on Apa and Ama's face.

In August 2013, in campus, in the middle of an event i organized and when i was 3677 kilometres away from home. I received a call from Ama about cancer and scientific words and 4th stage and operation and things i do not comprehend and... about Apa. When I put the phone down, I actually thought i will break down the next second. I do not understand, deny to understand it but my mind has pre-processed the information and at that moment I knew. I remember I took deep long breathes to refrained myself from crying as I carried on that night, behind a cheerful and i'm-okay complexion. A long night and the event was successful. "Be strong, show Apa your smile". But i cried when i walked home alone anyway. I imagined life without him and I couldn't wait to hop on the earliest flight available to be by his side. I dread for what's coming next.

The next day, I flew to my family and we waited outside of the operation room, anxiously. Nobody was crying (at least i'm not) because imagine, Apa was joking and smiling when he entered the operation theater. He said: "don't worry i'll come out soon.". He did. The operation successfully removed a big load of the tumour from his spinal cord region but the thing is still there, inside, spreading. But what's matter is, it is a miracle and Apa is back with limited time. And that's when i know days are numbered.

I am lucky to be my dear Apa's daughter. He's the father, the best friend, the  gamer, the boss, the teacher, the joker, the silencer, the travel companion and fundraiser, the fan, the supporter, the know-it-all-genius and my role model. Always. After the operation, I start to tell him I love you. I start calling home often. I start to prioritize. I start going home frequently during tuition break and spend more time with family. I also start taking more pictures of him and us and moments. I treasure every second spent with him and to make him glow and happy was on my check list everyday. And time to time Apa will go for check up and it was always good news. He was recovering so well yet, suffering endless pain that he hid so well.

Time was not on my side. Ten months after the detection, Apa passed away. It was really unexpected because he was only doing his usual check up and therapy at that time. One week earlier I was by his side in the hospital and i even remembered he scolded me in his gentle way for not feeding him properly in the hospital before I flew back to Miri for studies. But the next thing i knew is everything changed too soon. I could have crumbled up like a piece of paper without my friends and family support. I lost him afterall.

Throughout the wake i manage to put a smile on my face, i didn't even cry because the tear duct wasn't operating at all. We put on our armour for the upcoming battle. Ama is fierce and strong. Achun is heartbroken yet strong. Amei don't understand what's going on but she is strong. Tzehui doesn't show how she feels but she is strong. We became the ones to comfort groups and individuals who miss him in that five days. And I see then how many people's heart Apa had touched in his life. They are students, not-his-student-but-Apa-inspired-him/her, colleagues, comrades, friends, classmates and more and more. He had leave his legacy in this land, and it slowly spreads with me and my siblings and his students and even random people who respects him. I almost thought he's a superstar, because, he is.

My dear superstar Apa, it's Mooncake Festival today. 3 months have passed and I believe you're in a better place now. I miss you. We are doing fine, and i like to think that you're still here with us. I guess you are really smart afterall for leaving your last words in your phone back in August 2013. I got your message Apa. I will be great. I love you.