Unlike the previous conference I was involved in, this latest one saw me being in very close proximity of senior hacks from the local media, including old bosses and the likes.
I had to dodge a ghost and was exposed (yet again) but this time to some femes bloggers.
You tau bapak dia sapa? Kuda Kepang.
Felt weird to be introduced as the kid of a url or handle name. But with the same result, when I see the expression on some faces around the table subtly change. I hate every time that happens.
Another thing is my own fault. I still say things without thinking at times. Which leads to having creepies try to latch on, by asking stupid/insensitive/blahh questions. I hate that too.
One thing though. I had to name drop once, and the person I approached actually knows I’m writing for one of his product on a not-so-regular basis.
It’s something I’ve got to live with, having this name. It shouldn’t bother me anymore, I know, but when you’re among people who doesn’t care, that’s not a problem. And then I just voluntarily throw myself to the wolves every six months or so. Gatal.
I can’t help it because I love what I do and sometimes its necessary. Like this week. I learned some things, met some people. A bit of brain picking, a lot of hustling.
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Others may dismiss me as a cheap knockoff, walking in his shadow. That has been my own fear when I started out. But I don’t care anymore. Because professionally, we’re totally different.
However, I still don’t like the association. Because of the person himself. Because of what he did, and still doing. I sometimes realise I come across as an ingrate, by ridiculing him, by not acknowledging his presence when he’s in the same space.
Maybe I shouldn’t do those things and just be professional. But emotional is my middle name. And with him, it’s usually personal.