Lightning Strikes

I feel unnervingly sober at this point of time so I guess I'd better do this before my mind blacks out.

It seems all natural now - the late nights, early mornings, truck loads of coffee. I'm a fan of routines, and I know I've been on one for quite awhile now. I remember weeks ago I stood by my window and stared out into the night sky. In the distance there were flashes of lightning - periodic, intimidatingly flashy lightning. I merely stood there in awe, wondering if the strikes were indeed consistently apart. I started counting the number of seconds between each strike, and after awhile decided that I want to capture it on my phone. I tried to time the lightning but alas, there was no recurrent pattern. I felt slightly disappointed, but was still rooted there for a couple of minutes, thinking if it would last through the night. Part of me wanted those strikes to form a regular pattern, to bear a semblance of certainty.

The thing about me and certainty is the obsession of never having to feel lost or wandering; grip tight like a vice struggling to stay afloat and breathing. I've told myself numerous times to run wild and let go but I think innate barriers like these are the hardest to overcome. Perhaps the toughest thing to do is not the early mornings, the late nights, the solitude, the urge to stay awake, or anything else I thought was impossible. The toughest of all is to see through everything, to push away all the disturbances around, to not worry about anything else other than what I'm focusing on. At the end of the day when I look back, I want to say I emerged victorious, I survived, and I knew what I was doing. And when that day comes, would I still be overly concerned with all the trivial frivolities I thought were hindrances?

Wishes

I remember vividly that last Christmas, all I wanted was to find some meaning in life. I'm utterly grateful that I have found it not too long ago, though it has existed in my life for longer than I can remember. Funny thing is most of us would have wished for the same thing as I did, but nobody really admits it, fearing to be judged for being aimless in life. But I think it's important to find the closest thing to your heart, feel it, and let your heart decide if that is what you want. Once you've made up your mind, never let go of this thing or feeling.

It seems like the perfect weather today. The chilly atmosphere, cold breezes, perpetually ominous skylines and the silence in my room makes it perfect for this occasion. It just seems right to be plugged away in music and moody songs to make myself feel mellow. I wish there were more days like this - times where I just lose myself in songs that made me feel as if I've lived those words, and the mini-concerts I have in my small haven of solitude. It really is a sanctuary. I've been packing and tidying and shifting some stuff here and there to make some amendments to my room's layout, and I'm annoyed at myself for procrastinating this project. Well, if I really wanted to look for an excuse for myself I could say that I'm working...

There were times I thought it unfair and felt begrudged, that I've seen people my age enjoying themselves, having fun, and taking advice to live like this is the last student experience of our lifetimes (it's true). For me, it was never that. It was always work. There was a time when parents could support me because I had a minimalist lifestyle, but it is clearly not that situation now. I sometimes almost feel jealous that my peers can live without worrying about finances. I know now, though, that everything I'm going through will make me a stronger and more resilient person, and I never felt felt sorry for myself ever since.

New Year's Day is just round the corner, and I'd probably do a round up of 2013 events in my life then. I don't know yet if I would deem it a good year, but I guess we'll wait and see.

For this year I wish for my passion to keep burning, and for myself to achieve my long-term goal with laser-beam focus. I want to know that 10 years down the road I'll look back and say "that's where I started".

Merry Christmas everybody.

I Want Crazy

I'm not sure whether this thought comes with age, or maturity, or anything at all, but I think at some point in life we will all find the moment when we feel that we don't wanna be just mediocre any more.

There's been a lot of things going on lately and I pretty much let many things slide because I wanna concentrate on what is important to me at present, and everything else can wait. Right now I need to improve, as a person, and on the things around me. My life now is just early mornings and late nights, but I feel more energised than I did a year ago. Maybe it's because I truly feel like my life is carrying me somewhere, or that there is something in life worth working for, that I find some sort of meaning in all these stuff I do. I was never the outgoing sort of person; awkward, I would say, but it's who I am and sometimes people or events around challenge me in the aspect of spontaneity and I find myself retreating. This is precisely why this space was created - for my thoughts to manifest itself in a way where words can beautifully capture them and for my sensibilities to run wild.

We have been taught, and inculcated, that mediocrity is something that will break us in a society like Singapore's. Right here, competition balloons every day. We are in a relentless pursuit for the ultimate prize of a qualification to put us in the prisons away from creativity and talent. As much as I appreciate what my education has done for me, I can't help but wonder sometimes if such an education has in a way or another, stifled whatever spark I used to have in me. I remember a quote from a month back that goes: "The greatest regret is to be good at something that you dislike doing." It struck me hard, that how orchestrated most of our lives are. It wouldn't be fair to say that we never had a chance; there are, in fact, avenues available for us to explore other talents we might have. And I wouldn't diss anyone who stayed true to their childhood aspirations, regardless to become a successful lawyer or doctor or the other what-not-high-salaried jobs our parents and society tells us is good for us, but I just want to say that if I had another chance to make a choice, I want to be a musician. It definitely sounds ear-piercing to the conventional or typical Singaporean parent who have lived here long enough to know a career like that would never survive here, and that is precisely where the problem lies. We celebrate the things society places value on, but never stop to think that sometimes it isn't what society wants; it's what we want, and the congregation of our desires form the exact backbone of societal standards and expectations. We don't want to be mediocre, but then again, who wants to? It's time we stop injecting our own standards onto other people and expect the norm from them. We are not deviants for wanting different things.

I want to totally immerse myself in this whole new discovery and experience that I have found, and I want to stop behaving like I've always wanted a good degree and a well-paid job. It doesn't mean I'll stop being studious or whatsoever. It just means that I'll do whatever is necessary of me without compromising what I've always dreamed of doing.

I've heard how dreams and reality are in fact just a gossamer apart, and to find that distinction is the key to stepping out to do what you really want to do. So before someone tells me it's too late, I'm gonna make sure I do this right, and do myself justice by pursuing a passion I never lost in my entire life.

Resistance

We can never make a heart willing if it's not already poised to leap. Most times, we are too engrossed in our comfort that we do not fathom the sheer rapidness of everything happening around us; we strive to be the only constant in a world of transience. But we have always been taught to challenge this stagnation, to transcend or to advance beyond a restrictive sphere we surround our hearts with. The mind is the rational voice that wants to extricate our hearts from the walls we build around it. I'm starting to think this resistance of rationality is hurting me.

Keep the Goal in Mind

You keep telling yourself that you're stronger than you think you are, until you don't doubt it for a second; and beyond that moment, nothing else really matters.

Tough Times

I'm sorry to disappoint, and I'm sorry I can't be that person you expect me to be right now. I know you have your troubles, but to do this I have to be this person I am now. Please forgive me for now, because I promise that someday I'll be that person you've always thought I'd become.

Laser

As I stared out into town, littered with majestic skyscrapers, I saw many offices still lit on a Sunday night.

I know I'm not in any position to give much of an opinion about working our asses off instead of doing what we truly want to do, because I'm guilty of it. I've never been afraid to admit that I chose this course because it was a 3-year programme, and that I wanted to get over and done with studies as soon as possible to start working. We may all hold different ideals on what our life at this stage should play out to be; some want to enjoy the last mile of student life, absorbing the full vitality of youth embedded in uni life, some want to start conducting their own business, get some experience and hopefully earn some income, while others want to use this time of adolescence to discover themselves and transit into mature adults. Most people, at this point in their life, probably already have their goals and dreams figured out. It's sad to say I haven't.

I read on an article that one trait of successful people is their laser-beam focus on their goals. Some may call it obsession, but I'd like to call it dedication. In our society, the inability to multi-task is generally unfavourable. Scholarships require you to have stellar academic and co-curricular achievements at the same time. Jobs demand the handling of multiple accounts at any one time. Family, friends and lover all want a piece of you. It seems that a diverse array of commitment has become the expectation of us in the modern world, and fixating on something with laser-like focus rarely seems to be as highly regarded as before. I did observe, though, that more than often, to be good at anything does require an unwavering commitment to it. How then, are we to conform to societal demands and stay focused at the same time?

It's approximately a week away from finals, and I can see everyone upping the ante of dedication. I start my days at 7 a.m., and end at around 2 a.m., stretching it as much as I can. I do ask myself what we're all doing this for, but I always arrive at the conclusion that we have no other choice. Uni life is honestly overrated. I don't think everyone agrees, but I don't intend to listen to the arguments to the contrary. It's sad how I haven't really connected to anyone in school yet; a real, genuine sort of affiliation that I can expect to carry on for years to come. It almost feels like I have let strangers walk in and out of my life without much regard. Perhaps I haven't been putting myself out on the line as I should have, or that I'm too boring for anyone to want to consider any sort of affiliation.

I've never felt so lethargic before. In times like this I need more strength than I can surmount, more support than I can offer, and more affection than I deserve. I'm not sure if I can take this, but if I do survive, I know I've grown stronger.

I'll push through it.

But I don't really have a choice, do I?

Watch Your Life Play Out

I'm sure if we all had another shot at life, we probably would've chosen a different path, a different destiny, or a different past. It would seem pretty tempting to wipe the slate clean, especially when we think about all the mistakes we've made thus far. But what would your answer be, if say, given a choice to restart, erases everything that has happened in your life till today, regardless the good times or bad ones? If we could live another life, a life so perfect in our eyes, what, then, is stopping us? Despite of all the resentment we had or have for our lives, I'm not so sure that everyone of us want that flawless slab of rock. The current point, at any point in time, will always be a starting point if you let it be. Let yourself start something new today, and make a change that you always wanted to see in you. It will take time, but it will all be worth it.

As I write this paragraph, I coincidentally chance upon the magical 11:11, sitting here plugged in to slow acoustic music, and letting the day stop in this moment for awhile and absorb my senses. I had an effusion yesterday that I can't seem to get over. It'll probably take awhile to sink in, but meanwhile I will allow it to manifest itself without restraint. We often let ourselves be too comfortable with numbness that we sometimes fail to pause for our feelings. In this part of the world we live in, everything is fast. Morning smiles are a rarity, and so are compliments. The place is hot, but its people are cold.

I used to be extremely particular about the environment I am in when I'm writing, but have recently learned to forego that peeve arising from a cacophonous surrounding. I maintained that to capture the right emotions in my expressions, I needed a "conducive" environment, though what constituted to conducive I was not all that certain. But I was wrong. I didn't need serenity or tranquillity; at least not in the surroundings. I needed it in my heart, in the spirit, where everything would halt so precisely for me to explore everything around the newly created black-hole within. How can I be so at peace if I've never been there before? I thought I hadn't, but I know I have when I let music take over my senses. It unlocks so many secrets, and it unwinds so many feelings. Pensive, all of a sudden. Rationality takes a rest and emotions seem to take control.

May this bliss repeat forever.

Talk To Me

I have every reason to be ecstatic today, because I finally got my long-overdue driving license. I remember taking lessons since 2 years ago when I first started out this blog, and here I am now, after a hideous number of failed attempts, a certified driver. But I'm not here to celebrate that. I am here because something else struck me on my journey home today - a father-to-son conversation I haven't had in a long, long time.

This is probably the first place I'd come to when I need to let my feelings out. The only other therapy I've known to work is the guitar and sad songs, but that wasn't enough. This needs more. This needs words. This needs literary expression.

Perhaps I've been blinded by my own selfishness for too long, or that I've been hiding in my own silo for ages. I have never concerned myself much with my family issues because we were raised to not question about how things work in here. We never had to worry, frankly. But as I grew older, I realised we were never making ends meet. I learned today the kind of finances we have - my parents have, for that matter - and I instantly hated myself for not being capable enough to support them. It pains me to know that they have never stopped working, just because they had to. They had to wait for us to grow old enough to support ourselves.

A few weeks ago in town, I wanted to head over to my father's workplace for some coffee, but I didn't. Because as I was approaching his workplace, I saw him sitting at a table alone, eating his dinner in silence. I don't know why but at that time I felt a surge of emotions overcome me, and for that moment I had no words but a towering sense of grief. The tears were imminent, so I thought, but alas, I reigned them back. It was a particularly melancholic sight for me to endure, but I did.

I remember how this cold war started, but the truth is I don't know how to end it. I've been estranged for too long for anybody to care for me. I don't know what other ways to love them than to not burden them any more than they can already bear. I wish I had an answer, but I don't. I wish someone would teach me how, but there's no one. I wish there was another way, but there isn't. There are a million things that are going through my mind now; a huge swirling mess of concerns and other things to worry about. On top of that is my hatred for my extravagant lifestyle, my aloof attitude, and my lack of sensibility. I haven't been acting like I should, or fulfilled what I could. Instead, I am the exact opposite. I do all the things I shouldn't, and omit the things that I should.

I think I'm in need for a serious HTHT.

Confessions

I have been procrastinating my posts recently. I write considerably less, but not because I feel much less, but because I've been excusing myself from writing. I started off wanting to pen down my emotions for fear of losing whatever semblance of sanity in myself, and to record the many musings that might have been fleeting but made absolute sense at the point of their manifestation. To write lesser means that some thoughts of mine were lost in clouds of hazy uncertainty, and probably will never be restored to the time they were conjured. But like I mentioned, I never stop feeling, and perhaps it's an eccentric nature of mine, but I seem to live every other moment thinking about something else if I am not already affixed on whatever is in front of me. I just enter into a zone where thoughts wandered and feelings were true, almost to a point where you could feel the sensation of things and events coming into realisation.

Someone who used to read this asked me how long I took to write a post. It was a difficult question to answer, actually. Truth is, I've almost never published a post without proof-reading it. In real terms, it means that I've never allowed my posts to be published with errors. I could have gone back and forth at a sentence for ten times, or more, to try to make sense of it all. I don't know why I do that. Perhaps it's to make sure whoever is reading this can make sense of what I say, but it really doesn't matter, because this was never meant for much reading anyway. It is more like snapshots of different periods of my life and what sort of insanity and idiosyncrasies I've felt at some point.

It seems weird that I am still reading your blog, because I see you right from the start. I see you fall in love, out of it, move on, grow strong, accept a belief, and learn to love again. It's not like I've deliberately tried to follow your footsteps, but I have to admit that I'm somehow periodically drawn to your life. There is a mesmerising attraction to it; or maybe it's just that not many people can vividly capture their life moments in words like you can, or encapsulate feelings in writing in a graceful yet comprehensive manner like you do. Or perhaps, simply, you are the only one I know who lasted this long in the endeavour of keeping a diary. It's almost uncanny how I think about the same things as what you express, a sense of deja vu. Despite everything that has changed, I feel like there is much certainty in what I feel, but you might have moved faster than I ever could. It's funny how we used to joke about being siblings, but never really doubted it.

This might be longer than usual because certain things have been stuck with me for quite a period of time now, and it seems only fair to release them here when I still remember them. Recently I've learned to come to terms with my flaws, after suppressing them for as long as I can imagine. It's never easy to admit your flaws, but I take it that acknowledging them is the first step to overcoming them, and hence I choose to take this stride. Amongst other morbid habits that may not be exhaustive, I identified a few that permeated my daily existence. Firstly, I learned that I'm very much an introvert; not in extremity, but indubitably one. I purport happiness because I felt that it was unfair for people to feel otherwise. But I know I'm not happy, and that means lying to myself. Right now I can't really figure what makes me happy, or what will, and that is potentially the reason I sometimes feel incredibly lost yet rooted. Secondly, I learned that I do have certain issues with controlling my emotions. To be someone who feels endlessly is not entirely bad, but it definitely means that I express my emotions stronger than a normal person would; and this applies to both spectrum of the feeling-o-meter. I say this because a frustration that happened last Friday almost tore me apart, and it reinforces my notion that I feel, and therefore act, too much. I could, or might, have burst out of a tidal wave of annoyance that ensued a rather heated argument. I should say it took me too long to convince you and I lost it. I felt terrible after that. Absolutely horrible. I would've apologise profusely if I could, but it would only make things awkward. A while back someone told me I had anger management issues, and I didn't accept it. In retrospect, I probably did, but was too blind to see it, or too afraid to admit it. Lastly (figuratively), my lack of motivation often takes over me in full swarm and I allow myself to indulge more than I should. I used to pride myself over self-discipline - being able to do things without reminders or supervision - but lately, I don't see that in myself any more. All I see is a dispirited man who can't get his shit together for something he knows is important to him, and surprisingly feeling no guilt on it.

At this point in time I'm just letting my thoughts flow. I usually try to write with coherence but I don't think I'd be overly concerned about that now.

My life has been boring, but I yearn not for drama.
My mind has been wandering, seeking for nostalgia.
Feel the rain fall on your skin,
draining away the feelings within.
Hate the sun when it shines too bright,
but love the rain when it patters so light.
Dream of when it was all too easy,
and sleep in like it was always this cosy.
Inhale the senses so intricate;
feel your body so delicate.
What will all this be with meaning?
Or is this monster not for saving?
Tell me that you can be honest
and stare into my eyes in earnest.
Can you see what I see?

It's Been Awhile

It's always convenient to give excuses about how we don't have time for certain things, and sometimes the way I prioritise things in my life puzzles me.

And here I boast of a luxury of time, all too often, in contrast to a cohort of people struggling to squeeze another hour out of everyday. I have been telling people around me that I've lost the motivation to study, but haven't actually come to terms with its implied consequences. I used to be focused and determined; I had a goal. I'm not sure when I have realised that I have no fucking sense of direction in my life at this point in time. I spend my weekends aimlessly and accomplishing nothing related to school work. It seems only strange, because nobody knows how high the stakes are for me. But I'm not acting as if my life depended on this degree, or that somebody else depended on me. What I'm doing - it has no meaning.

Whenever I look around, I see hard-working people trying to make every second count. I see their passion in what they do (maybe not the studies part, but at least, uni life). It throws me into reflection, but sadly, not motivation. I don't know who I'm doing this for any more.

Sometimes I think that I expect too much of people around me than of myself, and that is selfish. Maybe I can no longer hide behind a façade of smiles and "I'm okay", of "I'm surviving", and of "I know how it feels". Because behind steel walls is a vulnerability that nobody sees.

I'm not sure when I have started to erect these barriers to my feelings or to people around me. I've never really let anyone in, and maybe that's kinda sad. I've done it to almost everybody; I've even done it to family. The result is a feeling of emptiness that seems to get comfortable over time. I enjoy spending time alone just because solace is my forte. Nobody needs to know, nobody needs to see, nobody needs to feel and nobody needs to care.

I probably can't complain because there are people with much more to deal in their lives than I have. I have no broken relationships to mend, no big choices to make, no concerns too great to grieve about.

It's time to start finding meaning and stop pretending that I am happy.

Of Late Nights and Clear Minds

It always occurs weird to me that I would be clear-headed enough to write something coherent at this hour at night. It pains me to know that I haven't been here for awhile, because work just keeps on piling up and I am forever chasing deadlines and trying to stay ahead. Amidst all that, I neglected this part of my life that was so important (still is; but hey, I'm making an effort). I'm not afraid to admit it's all due to a little procrastination and poor time management. I could find time if I wanted to.

The last I checked, too many people are awake a this odd hour. I'm sitting here, plugged into my music, and here my roomie is, telling me he will be up till 5 or 6 am to finish up his essay. I am not gonna question his competency at that, but I just can't help but wonder, are teenage minds really that formidable? Youth, energy, and consequently late nights, will slowly fade away as we abuse the very gift of vigour. We find that we need more time for more things, but are we really rushing it through? Or does this always happening to generations and generations of people who age too fast because they do too much and live too little?

Too many questions for a late night.

Adult

I once came across a post on Facebook that said writing is cathartic. Funny how we often only find enough time and emotions to write when we are sad. We seldom see people boasting about being the happiest person in the world, or that they are thankful for everything they have in life. For the longest time, this has been my avenue of catharsis, or an outlet, perhaps, for all the angst and unpleasantness I had felt. I've never really been the happiest of people, but I think amidst these 2 months of hectic and crazy activities, I have found a different kind of peace and happiness I haven't felt in a very long time.

I always told myself that if you did crazy things with a bunch of crazy people, it negates all sense of sanity and somehow crazy is the new sane. By this time in life I am way past caring about how other people judge me. There are bound to be judgemental people, and I feel it in here - all the time - but I am trying not to let it affect me.

Even as school starts I feel utterly unprepared for the fast-paced curriculum, especially after an incredibly long hiatus. This week will probably be my most free one, and it may well be the most therapeutic one too. As I begin this new journey of  an independent life, I know I must be determined, strong, and kind to people, before I can finally repay someone who has always been there for me regardless of all the shit happening around me.

Once I start, I can't stop. Damn this race.

11:11

Someone once told me that seeing 11:11 on a clock means that another person is thinking of you. Well, I've been seeing that number way too often so I doubt that's true anyway. But if anyone out there is really thinking about me, how wonderful would that be?

Lately I've been occupied with seemingly frivolous yet important things. Things like learning. I'm not sure whether it's a thing of our generation, that we somehow are groomed to be very impatient people, because it is pretty evident that we are always in a rush. We always wait till the last minute, want to see results fast, and want to achieve things quickly. Think about the times we went "I wish I could play the guitar like John Mayer," or "I wish I could have a body like Ryan Gosling," or even "I wish I could be as successful as ___".

We are obsessed with being good at things we see others are good at, but we don't realise that they have put in their due effort to get where they are. Nobody had a short cut, so why should we? If we never start, we will never be good at something. You want to be good at a sport? Then get up and go play it! You want to learn to play an instrument? Then get it and learn from scratch! The greatest obstruction to success is inaction, procrastination, and self-resistance. Tell yourself that you want to do something, be somebody, and you will need to put in the effort to make it happen.

Gosh, I sound so damn inspirational.

Beyond Just Haze

I am here partly because I haven't been, for quite some time now, and partly because I need to take a break from all the PSI rants on Facebook.

The last time Singapore was so hazy was more than 15 years ago. I am not gonna talk too much about ethical business practices and corporate responsibilities, but I just want to point out that I am very disappointed that the issue of burning of forests has been happening for more than 20 years already, and is never gonna stop unless someone mandates it. Reluctance, inaction, and a nonchalant government has indirectly condoned such atrocities. Funny how it's not really anybody's business until someone actually complains about it when it gets detrimental, and we realise the model of action-reaction in our societies. If it really is "counter-measures" all the time, then perhaps it is time to evaluate if current systems are adequate in confronting national crises like these that involve transnational elements.

Yet we know there's nothing we can do. In the face of this atrocity, we can only brandish our little sword of defiance through online social platforms, rant on about how it's affecting our health and livelihood, diss the culprits responsible, but in fact rendered powerless because we value diplomacy more than anything else. The truth is we can't challenge somebody else's sovereignty. The truth is we can't issue sanctions. The truth is inaction breeds audacity.

But how can we make them see the light when they choose to turn their heads away?

Fine Read

It feels like so long since I've last been here! I'm typing away effortlessly on my new laptop which I believe somehow makes my flow of thoughts slightly more coherent due to the absence of annoyance from a malfunctioning spacebar. Sweet.

I've been feeling lazy lately about coming here to post something. It's not that I feel compelled to, anyway, but I think the hindrance of a broken spacebar has critically limited my enthusiasm of penning my thoughts down. But now, finally.

I've recently completed 3 books (on my kindle, actually; but really - technicalities) back to back, and I feel the need to congratulate myself for this significant achievement. I can't remember the last time I've picked up a real, physical copy of a book. I must confess that I do miss that feeling of it, but technology has been so kind to provide all these hassle-free digital copies of wonderful, magical, and enriching tapestries of literary expressions that I simply find hard to refuse. I will admit that I am a cheapo who rarely pays for books, partly because I don't have space to store them, but mostly because its affordability is something I personally find unsustainable. I grew up with free copies of the likes of Enid Blyton, The Bookworm Club, and the Hardy Boys / Nancy Drew series from my cousins. When I was younger, I'd almost always borrow a book, from a friend or the library, instead of owning one myself. I adore the idea of entering the library without any title in mind, and just be there to explore the possibilities of discovering a good read on those tightly-packed shelves simply by the advice of a blurb. Nevertheless, I'd love to get a copy or two of these books if I could, and I would, in fact, if I was sufficiently captivated by it.

I don't know about you, but every time I start on a book it's like I'm embarking on an exciting journey. I always feel slightly daunted when I'm about to begin, because I absolutely hate starting on a book which I will ultimately not complete. The dilemma is that if we never venture deeper into a book, we'd never know its development. (But what if we do and it sucks?) There definitely have been times when I simply couldn't convince myself to carry on reading a boring and unenlightening piece of work. I'm sorry to all avid readers out there who think I am just a myopic, judgemental provincial who doesn't understand the beauty of literature, but I have been through enough times when I was grievously disappointed by a lacklustre narrative, and so I aim to avoid that sour feeling of emptiness exacerbated by a realisation that I have completely wasted x hours of my time, if I had a choice.

I'm in the middle of another book now, and I'm glad that it is has been pleasantly entertaining so far. I love my kindle. I'm signing off to continue on it now.

Oh, have I mentioned my new laptop keyboard is awesome? I might just overflow this blog with posts this month! Hahahaha

Cycles

Well, that ended 2 days of an utter waste of time.

I was in camp these 2 days for some sort of preparatory briefing. Nothing's new; the inefficiency will always be there. The sub-standards of professionalism and majority of generally disinterested people are traits already accepted as the norm. But despite all that, what really made this a less dreadful experience was the people I met. It was an excellent time for all of us to meet the people whom we used to share our time in camp with. And I'm glad that we had been able to take time off our personal schedule (ok not really; it's mandatory) to spend it with some of the people we have lost touch with.

People may come and go in our lives, but they are still people who have been part of our lives, a piece in our puzzle, and an influence to us. And when we meet these people, they just fit so naturally back into the puzzle. I think we all need this. For the next 10 years, we will watch each other grow, and some people might not always be around, but a yearly affair like this will serve as a cohesion for all of us and memories for the rest of our lives.

Solo

Sometimes there are things we do without the knowledge of anyone, not even our closed ones, when clearly we might be better off with their support. Sometimes it is exactly because the disappointment of failure is only ours to bear when it's this way, that we choose the path of solitude.

The long weekend is almost over, and I have spent it mostly on quiet moments with myself, roaming and plugging in to music. To be alone but not lonely. I never understood how important it is to have people in our lives who care that we are lonely, until I realise that most people don't. There are only a few people we can comfortably reach out to when in need and be sure that they will be there. A few who would encourage, a few who do not judge, and a few who help us up.

This time round I'm doing it alone.

No Tears

They say that when a door closes on you, another one will open for you. But when the door closed on me for the fourth time, I couldn't keep calm. First, it was surreality. Then it was denial; I couldn't accept what I was hearing, and I couldn't understand why. A full-fledged panic attack ensues as I am reminded of what the matter presented to me meant. I decided that I wouldn't go down without a fight.

I was lost. I was desperate. I was tugging at this door that was closing on me, struggling against the immense force that was on the other side. I put up the toughest resistance. I threw my pride away - I begged, and I gave excuses, just to keep that door ajar. I thought that as long as it wasn't closed, I had a chance of overcoming the seemingly insurmountable force and pry that door open. But alas, my efforts were to no avail, and I witnessed the door shut on me with a 'click' so decisive and heart-wrenching. For a moment I just slumped there, exhausted, battered and defeated. No, it wasn't just an ordinary defeat. It was humiliating. I felt pathetic. I felt like a fool who attempted to challenge an ineluctable and impregnable force. I made myself that fool. And I just sat there wallowing in self-pity; my world a whirl of chaos. I hated myself, and I would hate myself more if I could, but I couldn't. I was unsure if it was because my self-hatred was at its maximum, or that I simply had no more energy left to do it.

Then my breath started regulating again, and the air that was knocked out of my lungs just minutes ago seem to return with such fervour that I was overwhelmed with a surge of emotions. Did that just happen, or did that not - I couldn't tell for the moment. But as quick as my breath was taken away and restored, I was affirmed of its reality.

And then there was a complete void of emotions.

There were no tears.

Grind

If all our lies do overturn,
and leave my feelings there to burn,
how do I cease myself to deeply yearn
the regret of a lesson I fail to learn.

Get Out

I don't know why but we've become so distant that I can't seem to feel real around you anymore. We still have our common topics, and we still joke about the same things, but does it make you feel better by putting someone else down, or to criticise for the sake of it? It might not have been a big deal to you, but it felt like I wasn't respected as an individual. Are we not free to make our life choices; and for you to disagree, not to sound more than condescending? I feel like I can't say anything without being judged, and it is precisely because your judgements matter that I take them so personally.

As I continue to appreciate so many things happening in my life right now, I feel it is important to temporarily rid myself of negative influences that threaten to put me down. Disapproving or not, there is a certain faith I have in myself I wish to preserve. And as friends, if I can't get that little support from you, then really, what is the point of you in my life?

Interact

There was a time where human interaction did not involve staring at tiny LED screens, and it was a magical time. I remember a time when we all owned simple, Nokia phones, with the sole purpose of making phone calls and the occasional SMS. There was no constant need to reach out our hands for these devices every time it vibrates to see who just messaged us on WhatsApp, log-in to Facebook on mobile just to scroll through some frivolous updates and keep our eyes occupied, or complete yet another level on Candy Crush because everyone else is playing it.

Conversations were genuinely happening, and you just kept talking, exchanging views on common topics and exploring further by sharing something personal, interesting, which encourages others to do the same. And when the group of us ran out of something to say, there would be a momentary awkward silence when no one is speaking but everyone is thinking of what to say next to start a fresh conversation. It didn't matter if our fingers were idle, or if we have zoned out halfway through with the lyrics of the last song we've heard on our iPod replaying in our heads.

Do you feel that lonely even in the company of people, that you really need to converse with another 2 or 3 people on your smartphone to fill that void? Do you not feel like the people right in front of you are worth every minute and every second or your attention and company?

Dinner

I went out with my family for dinner tonight, and I don't want to feel this way, but dinners with the family have been utterly dreadful.

We just sat there, my Dad and Mum famished, my sisters so engrossed with their smartphones that I wonder if they feel hungry as well. And I just stared. I took it all in; this sight before me, and what it used to be. There I was with so many thoughts in my mind, but so silent and inexpressive on the outside. I don't know why, but I couldn't do more than just stare.

Maybe I have brought this upon myself. Maybe I have distant myself too far for me to return. Or maybe I just didn't want to return. A part of me feels slightly guilty for this silence, but something else in me also resonates that I don't want to be part of this anymore.

I hate to admit this, but I miss the times when I still could have a conversation with them, and I wish I was less antagonistic; to have a conversation without feeling half-irritated and half-impatient. But I know it's not possible anymore. Things have changed so much in these few years.

Discovering People

"I think I need new friends."

If we were to be utterly honest with ourselves, I think most of us would have thought about this at some point of our lives. I'm the sort who literally survive on friends (because I'm not on very good terms with my family; I don't want to talk about it), although I must say there are only few whom I actually speak to regularly.

It's hard, because being friends sometimes mean we have to tolerate an insensitive comment, an offensive remark, a joke carried too far, or an idea you are not entirely comfortable with. There is no mandate for this tolerance, but more than often we feel obliged to be of support to someone close and maybe join in the callous teasing.

We will always meet new people, but not everyone can tolerate our idiosyncrasies and be called our "friend". I need to cherish.

Still Counting

I've checked today's date for more than 3 times in a day, and it suddenly struck me that the date no longer has significance to me now. For the past few weeks, it has consistently been an onerous cycle of "waiting for the weekend to arrive". Frankly, I have lost my sense of direction and purpose along the way at where I work now, but I don't blame myself, nor the people I work with, for the matter. I know very clearly the reason for it; I've been there before. You see, the nature of being a temp staff is such that you are always part of the achievement, but never part of the acknowledgement. You may be part of the assignment, but never part of the attainment. You may be part of the aspiration, but never part of the admiration. I can't say it's anybody's fault here. After all, the amount of responsibility expected from a perm and temp staff is starkly different to begin with, and overachieving will get you some commendation along the way but that isn't going to make you "more of the team" or closer to "our" goal.

Maybe it's that I always try to give my all that I feel slightly cheated at this. I know it's not their intention; I'm probably reading too much into it, but I find it difficult to define my own purpose, given this situation. In the end, it will be just a job to pass time, earn some income, hone my excel skills, give me the opportunity to do some non-fictional reading, live a healthier lifestyle, sharpen my communication skills, appreciate the weekend more... Wait a minute. That isn't so bad after all!

But I look on the bright side of it. I have indubitably learned a lot from the people I work with, and I believe that every small contribution I make was appreciated in some way or another. It honestly doesn't matter if I got any recognition for anything I've done, because the true spirit I embody would never demand credit. It was like that during my Army days, and being in a new environment doesn't change that mentality. It might not bring me far, but I'm contented.

Learning to count my blessings have been my greatest lesson yet. Oh, btw, that's part of the superhero training.

Go Slow

As he made a left turn into the smaller road, he heard the Mercedes Benz horn at him from the back. Frustrated and annoyed, but can't be bothered, he shook his head in an act of disappointment and pointed at his helmet with his index finger, conveying to the driver behind him that he wasn't thinking. Unwilling to relent, the driver sounded his horn again at the cyclist in front of him before turning into Traders Hotel. This got him fuming, and he stopped his bicycle abruptly at the roadside and stomped to the car in an attempt to confront the asshole of a driver who sounded his horn at him, twice, for what might be a rushing tactic. As he started bellowing and pointing his middle-finger around, the Mercedes Benz left hastily as soon as it unloaded its passenger, without the driver giving a fuck at the seemingly mad man, and I walked into my office building, somewhat unamused by the sequence of events.

The drama episode this morning on my way to work really put me into perspective. What could annoy a person as much as for him to display contempt for a stranger in the morning? I could understand the cyclist's anger, and given myself in the same situation, might have flown into a rage as well. Have we grown too impatient to realise that in relativity we are in fact faster than everyone around us, and perhaps not everyone appreciates the haste? Have we been too haughty to think that driving an expensive car around instantly gives us the right to be rude and offensive, fueled by a self-projected sense of superiority?

I never felt like I was in a mad rush to reach anywhere, if it was appropriately scheduled. I know we have been taught to manage our time wisely, and to make sure that as little time as possible goes to waste is the quintessence of this virtue. But we all know why the MRTs are so packed at 8.30a.m. and 6.30p.m. everyday. We all know why being fashionably late has become a culture in most Singaporeans.

I fret we might be a generation of the impatient.

For The First Time

Have you ever felt so close to someone, only to wait for each other to encourage the other with enough signs before someone actually makes the first move? For a moment you thought you have fallen in love, but alas, nobody moves, and it almost feels like you have broken up, not physically, but emotionally. Then you drift further apart from them, knowing that some point in your life you almost bent in for a kiss but was never really ready for it.

I've been replaying one song for the entire day, not knowing the reason why, but just feel like I needed such a therapy. Ironic, isn't it, that we have to admit that somehow, it is the saddest things or moments in our life that are most artistically beautiful. Not that I'm a saddist, but I genuinely feel that way. It's extremely moving, perhaps, to know that sad events evoke emotions and the brilliant side of humanity more than anything else. It is the time when we feel most sentient. I guess that's what makes crying a peculiar sort of therapy. There were moments, and I am not ashamed of them, that I just felt like crying for a reason that even I am unsure of. It was probably a surge of emotions, or that I was thinking too much (which I am pretty good at), but I just wanted to be vulnerable for awhile.

Behind every sad song possibly lies a heart-wrenching story, and it's when we find ourselves relating to these supposed heartbreaking events that we feel that we are a part of it. A part of the song. A part of the process. A part of the pain. And it will always be about losing someone - family, friend or lover; permanently or temporarily. Nothing is quite as beautiful as losing someone close, because behind each loss is a little bit of inadequacy, regret, and most importantly, a fragment of a happy memory.

The greatest surprise is that we're not very different people after all. Most of us can watch a touching video and cry, listen to a sad song and well up, hug someone and feel as if you never want to let go, sit and talk for hours about nothing but everything that comes to mind with that certain someone. You and I are so much of the same. We think we're alone but we're not, and we realise that when times are hard, when we need people to support us, that it is especially true.

Life is never about "going according to plan". We have a choice to live spontaneously or cautiously. But if you ask me, I was never really ready for anything, and don't think I'll ever be. To love yourself is to love life, and to admit your weaknesses and sensuality is not vulnerability, but an expression of truth, to yourself, and to the people around you.

I think I will give myself a little time, and maybe a chance to be different. And maybe, just maybe, for once in my life, I'll find that I'm ready for something.

Can Beautiful People Really Do No Wrong?

And can unattractive people really do no right?

Despite society's coercion for people to look beyond the physical attraction of a person and interact with what is underneath a less compelling exterior, we cannot deny that we are, fundamentally, visual people. If only we could remember the number of times we actually saw a person or a picture of someone who is attractive, and involuntarily went "He/She's perfect". And the odd thing is, we don't know why we have this preconceived notion that beautiful people are perfect lovers. Is it the oh-so-melodramatic movies? Is it the idea that beautiful people are so rare and surreal that we unleash some sort of innate desire to want them for ourselves? Indeed, physical attraction has surpassed every other trait in a human being to impel a person to love. Why do you think advertisements are full of "perfect" people?

Dream Chasers

I finally have some time to pick up a book to read! It has been an incredibly tiring week. I don't know why. It's like I am constantly sleepy and hungry. Snoozing my alarm for 3 times in the morning, dozing off at work; man, it's like someone is sucking up all my energy. But I do feel slightly more alive at night, thank goodness. At least I still have the capacity to write something... Speaking of which, I totally need to get a new laptop. My-spacebar-is-getting-increasingly-annoying-because-it-fell-out-and-all-I-can-do-is-superglue-it-back. I might even have to finish this post in hyphens.

The weather is INSANE. It feels like I'm in a steamer all the time. Maybe this global warming and all is really catching up. I can't even wear a shirt out without sweating buckets. Fortunately, the weather this morning was pretty fine, but it seems that we never take the time off to appreciate these small things. Every morning I squeeze with a mosh pit of people who look like they hate what they're doing with their lives. People staring at their watches, and irritated that they have to shamelessly squeeze into the already congested cabin. When I get off to take a bus, I see people rushing across the streets to catch their bus, disregarding traffic rules and oblivious to the relentless sounds of horn at their hazardous behaviour. We all congregate at the bus stop vying for the shade, and some outliers smoking at the sides despite the morbid weather, but nobody ever speaks. There is always silence but the sound of traffic and monotonous beeping of ez-link cards.

I am not very proud of this but I must say I am almost falling asleep at this point in writing.

Anyways, back on track, I fear for the happiness of our people. In brutal honesty, we have never been the happiest of people to begin with. Accompanying a rapid increase in standards of living is the inevitable stress and sacrifice of time we all abhor. But as much as we loathe our everyday struggle, most of us have somehow come to terms with how it is a necessity for survival in this cold (not literally), expensive, and over-achieving city. For all we know all other cities may be the same, but we don't know, really, what living in other countries entails. So we're kinda stuck - clueless, option-less, begrudged, and well, unhappy.

Most people, if given the choice, would rather be a fashion model, a professional photographer, a successful author, a singer, a TV star, a travel blogger, a foodie, and many other indulgent careers that never seem to cease fascinating the masses. Because we know we enjoy these things. What more could you ask for, when what you love to do is what you do, and doing what you love actually makes you money, and work is like play, and play is like more play?

I seriously can fall asleep any second now.

To many of us, such is a dream of extreme distance. I, for one, know that we may not always be good at what we love doing. Some of us can't sing, and some of us can't dance, and there's nothing we can do about it. There is no "put your heart and soul into it and you will reap the results", because frankly, it will never happen. Such are the things where sadly, you either can, or you can't. We just gotta let it go and move on. But that doesn't mean that we should stop loving what we love. Even if we couldn't sing, we could explore record-producing, sound recording, and other peripherals of the music industry, because honestly, I don't think, at all, that Simon Cowell is an impressive singer himself.

Despite a heavy eyelid and a dreadful keyboard, I managed to finish this :D Looking forward to this wonderful weekend, and I hope you do too.

Want You More

What can I do
to make you feel the same way too?
Just a stranger walking by,
but something in you caught my eye.
I thought I'd get over it;
now tell me how to feel complete
without you filling me in,
and the sensation tingling my skin.
Is this some madness, oh have I gone mad?
This is no game; I want you so bad!
The more my heart yearns,
the more my soul burns;
the more my mind reasons,
the more your body beckons.
Tell me what this really is,
if you know the answer, pretty please!
Spare me from wanting you.
Just tell me you want me too.

Tell Me

And then it struck me that I haven't been writing here for quite awhile - perhaps the longest hiatus since I started this blog. So, here I am.

It has been awfully uneventful for the past 2 weeks, and I'm still hanging on a thread waiting for a certain reply. I'm not sure why, but I tend to always think that extraordinary things will never happen to ordinary people like me. It's as if everything was predestined and if you're not good enough that's that. I know we live on dreams, and I know to strive for them is our purpose, but there are times when things don't go our way and we're forced to take another route - one that's less scenic. I have gotten used to it, and should be immune to disappointments by now, but somehow, this still gets me a little.

It makes me wonder what I'm doing wrong, or if my inadequacy was inbred. The last I checked, I was full of enthusiasm and hope when I clicked the "submit" button, all ready for good news. I figure it's time that I take a look at myself once again and re-explore what I am capable of, and what I'm clearly not.

I thought I felt a small needle prick at my heart, then the pain was gone. It's almost as if I've imagined it, but it felt real.

To all Guardians

I might have just re-watched Rise of the Guardians, because it's freaking awesome.

Every time I finish watching an animated film (not anime, I'm sorry) I always feel that there's something magical about it. Maybe it's the surreality of it, the perfectly crafted characters that will never exist, or the cheesy but wonderful good versus evil story line. I can't really capture what it is exactly, but I know it warms my heart every time. I felt the same after watching Despicable Me, Tangled, Kung Fu Panda, Megamind, Finding Nemo - just to name a few. The films amalgamate fun and laughter with a valuable lesson, and the result is simply, for a lack of word, out of this world.

It sets me thinking about how it would have impacted people all around the world. Globally, people would be captivated by the same magical feeling that makes us cherish something dearer, feel better about ourselves, and ponder about the things that make us happy. I just love that.

I started this blog wanting to discover a superpower I never had, probably never will have, and definitely hidden for life if it did exist. But I choose to believe that it exists, and the day when I witness this superpower will come. I choose to believe in something people would call impossible or remotely achievable. I choose to let my belief go on forever, rather than douse it out.

Perhaps it is how the film resonates with my previous post about how we are desperate for a purpose, where Jack Frost succinctly portrays how our deepest fear and greatest insecurity is to never feel appreciated or believed in. How can we be loved, if we cannot even be seen? For the times we try too hard to gain attention, the moments we sit thinking about what we are doing wrongly, or the instances when we can't seem to please that someone we care so much about, there have been sadness and despair. We reflect about ourselves all the time. We hear jokes that strangers tell, and we secretly laugh in amusement. We see happy, beautiful couples, and we wonder when our time will come. We see cool and popular people and think about how we should change ourselves so that we can be like them - adored and attractive. If you ever had these feelings, you, too, have been in a place where you didn't fit before. You felt lonely and purposeless, like a drifting log in the sea. There was just no one to talk to, or no one that could relate to you, just like Jack.

But it is precisely these feelings that made me stronger, and they will make you too. No one said you have to be popular. Someone did, however, say you need to be happy, and that someone is me. Life was never a competition to see who had most friends, and it certainly is not a race to see who can last longer. The aim is to live like everyday was worth it. And even if there are shitty days - which there are bound to be - we need to know that the reason why we find a day dreadful is simply because we have had better, and will have better. You keep telling yourself that, and you might never see a bad day again.

Talking to the Moon

"Is there something I'm doing wrong? Can you just tell me what it is? Because I've tried, everything, and no one ever sees me! You put me here, the least you can do is tell me... tell me why..."

Perfect

Have you ever loved the night, but not the darkness that consumes it?
Have you ever loved the moon, but not the stars that accompany it?
Have you ever loved a song, but not the lyrics that define it?
Have you ever loved a soul, but not the face that embodies it?

If we ever love something selectively, we never really love it. Love encompasses all the perfections and imperfections, big or small. Look past the flaws and find your greater love, and you'll find that your love is always perfect enough for everything.

Give Me Love

I know it’s hard to admit, but everything we do, we do for somebody.

There is always this innate desire yearning for approval, for consensus, and for support. It’s as if everything we do, we want someone to notice. Think about how we used to clamour for love when we were young, then how we wanted to get good grades in school just to impress our parents, how we want to get a wonderful job to boast to our friends, or less antagonistically, prove to them that we can be successful in life if we wanted to. The truth is, if nobody notices our labour, efforts and success, it doesn’t really matter that much anymore.

I’m sure it’s hard to come to terms with that, but it’s true. What is our purpose? Why do we do what we do? For ourselves? What if the whole world disapproved? What if no one supported you? It’s easy to say we live for our own, but a quick reality check will reveal that it is simply a model of idealism. We are trapped in a quagmire of eternal judgement; everything we do becomes an impression to others. Just like a YouTube video, while acknowledging that we can never please everyone, we want to be more liked than disliked. Then we ask, who is to say we are right or wrong? We can say that all we want, but we can’t deny the fact that deep down we want approval. Someone to tell us we are doing it right, someone to tell us they agree with us, someone to tell us what we’re doing is good. It’s a natural instinct that can be best curbed through confidence but never really eliminated. All the times we were told “No, you are wrong” were particularly dejecting, and it may have hurt us deeper than we thought. Then again, it is precisely these setbacks that motivate and encourage us to learn what others have to offer.

We are people who want to be cared for. That is why it is especially hurtful for someone whom we would expect support from to withhold it from us. The whole world could disapprove of our actions and choices, but when it’s our family, friends and people we care for, it’s as if the world just crumbles into a pile of nothingness.

Dark Side

There are tons of people out there who write. It could be any form of writing, or simply a sparkle of literary expression, but the reason why we write is to pen down (not literally anymore) what little fragments of magical words our mind conjures up at the oddest of hours.

I've seen those articles on thoughtcatalog, and realise how some of them are really just gibberish. And then again, there are some writers who perpetually churn out articles after articles that many people can relate to, to hit a common note and understanding, to share the same experience with, and to say "Hey, I did feel that way at some point in my life too". How does chelsea fagan manage to create so many articles that connect with so many people, and somehow succinctly capture their emotions and feelings into those words? It could be about letting someone go, healing from a heartbreak, re-encountering an old friend, losing people, finding love, living the life you want, or feeling hurt because someone did something to you, and vice versa. All these, in one way or another, could resonate with the life experiences of many. And sometimes we need someone like chelsea, someone to put our feelings and thoughts into words we couldn't possibly find ourselves producing.

I guess we are all the same. No matter how sentient a machine is, it can never replace how sensual beings like humans feel. Deep down we all have that soft side, that melancholic nature that can be suppressed with happiness in our lives, but never really detached from our souls. We don't really explore that side of ourselves that much, for doing so would inadvertently attract comments like "emo", "sad life", and "gay". But few of us understand that in this world, there are just some people who feel more than others - people who are more in touch with their intrinsic sensuality and people who do not fear exhibiting this side of themselves which is bold, colourful, and passionate. Instead, it is often misunderstood as a dark and depressing facet of the soul.

In all our efforts to be the nonchalant one, we often forget to get in touch with this part of ourselves. While being perennially depressed or pessimistic is debilitating, shutting ourselves from this vulnerability is not beneficial for the soul as well.

Always take some time to feel, before we forget how to.

Fortunately

How often do you count your blessings?

Everyday I look at what I'm doing, and question myself why I'm doing it. I'm sure if we all had a choice, we wouldn't be working. We would be travelling the world, making new friends everyday, trying new stuff every week, finding new adventures at every destination, make merry with every opportunity, and live life like we really love it. But we know that's not for everybody. We know that it isn't sustainable, not for our entire life.

I believe that learning to accept that mentality is the first step towards a more fulfilling life. Take a look at where you are now, and ask yourself: Am I fortunate? If the answer is yes, keep up the good work, because obviously you are doing something right. If your answer is no, then I feel that you need to rethink the things you actually want, and why it hasn't come to you yet.

Admitting that you are fortunate is itself a sign of contentment, and a quiet, reserved kind of gratitude is felt in your heart. We learn that everything in this world is to be earned, and that only through these experiences do we find the things we own much more appreciated. Because if we didn't work for it, we don't deserve it. If we can think about this everyday and forget about comparing ourselves to others whom we see as more fortunate, then we can be happy.

Evaluation

My mom came into my room just now asking if I wanted to celebrate my 21st and if so, how? To be honest, I don't know the answer to that. I'm not really a party kind of person.

2 months ago we were still bathing in the new year spirit, rejoicing our survival of the 21.12.12 apocalypse, and making a long list of "things I want to achieve in 2013", which (c'mon; let's not lie to ourselves), is way too far from seeing its first item struck out. Well, let's not get too dejected yet. After all, the year has only just started :)

I had a short chat with my boss today, about the application of scholarships. To my surprise, I got a response that put me into a bit more perspective. I understood how people - scholars - think about other people, and I think it might be better keeping that sentiment to myself. In case you were wondering, it wasn't all good, but it did make a lot of sense, and made me think a little more about myself as a person, what I want to achieve, as well as how much of myself I am willing to give up.

As we reach the end the month, take some time to muse the kind of person we really are, and contemplate whether 2013 us is going to be much difference from 2012 us. What and how would we change, if we do, and why do we feel the need to do so? It's time to start asking ourselves some questions, before we find ourselves carrying our resolutions forward every year in a never-ending pursuit of procrastinated dreams.

Bring It On

I realise I haven't posted in awhile, so...

No, I don't think I was ever compelled to post, but I often get into a pensive mood for no particular reason, and I kinda enjoy these moments. I have bursts of enthusiasm to write something, but there are also times when I feel too lazy to even think about it. I guess we are all people like that. We dream of all the things we want to do, which may not necessarily always materialise. For that, we yearn more for the things that we know are privileges. There will come a time when we no longer want things, because we have everything we ever dreamed of – not because we worked too hard and enjoyed too little (I hope not), but because we tailored our expectations, and compromised our ambitions to settle for something more realistic, more achievable. I don’t think that’s wrong. The ambitious will dream of living in contentment, and the contented will fantasise about living a life of ambition. We all want to be people we aren’t, just because we aren’t.

I have been pretty busy lately, with work in the office and researching on some scholarship stuff. The time of the year has come again when I feel lousy about myself because of the things I don't see in my transcripts. But after a while, I convinced myself to believe that it is not all about accolades and results and whatnot. It is the heart; the desire to do well, to do more, so as to give more, and to live more. I just hope that the people seating behind that panel can see through all my imperfections to find a confident young man wanting to contribute. 

No more fears and insecurities - I'm in fight mode.

Enough Already!

I’m doing this in office right now. Boy, I hope I don’t get caught...

Last time I posted I mentioned that I grew up learning that I was someone who always had enough. Sure, there are times I had a little more than I expected, some indulgences to spare, and vice versa, but that’s about it. I don’t know why, but that’s how my life has been the past 20 years. I come from a family of humble background – nothing fanciful, nothing extravagant. My parents belong to the lower income bracket (their combined income could not have exceeded 5k/month), and I have 2 siblings who are still schooling now. In essence, we are a family that has to scrimp and save to afford anything slightly big-ticketed.

And that’s why I’ve always had enough, but not more. I know, given my situation to some people, they might think that I have far too little, but I’d like to think that I have enough rather than short-changed in life. Some people never needed financial assistance, but all 3 of us did. Some people never wanted bursaries as badly as we did, but we needed them for funding. Some people could afford meals at restaurants once a week, but we couldn’t. Some people could have electronics, toys, and gadgets, but we never had. All we had were books donated from our elder cousins. Even now as I mature, part of me never forgets the compromises we had to make. Of course, if I were brutally honest, I would have wanted more, as I’m sure most people will. But looking back on how I grew up not having much to brag about, I learned that to appreciate some things in life we have to be put in situations where opportunities were scarce, and offers were limited.

Throughout the years, we have had our ups and downs, but somehow, we never ran out of money. I don’t know why, I don’t know how, but I am fortunate enough that it is just this way. We had money for laptops, televisions, travelling, and furniture when the time came. Having 3 students in a family essentially means that the 4k they earned a month went into supporting us as well. Just how this money came about I am extremely bewildered. Come to think of it, I’ve never questioned about it. Perhaps it’s my apathy, or my general indifference for matters regarding finances, but it has never crossed my mind to ask about it.

There was once I told daniel that I’d rather not have a carefree life of substantial financial freedom, because I wanted a life where I have to make financial plans. Do you know what it feels like to plan an overseas trip on a very strict budget? Do you know what it feels like to make a long-term saving plan for your house and car, and realise that it cannot be achieved in the near future? If you don’t, then you have indeed been very fortunate. I’m not saying that I want to have just enough all my life, because I know for sure that’s what my parents would go against in their greatest might. They have not invested in my education for me to live with just enough. What I’m saying is that even if I were rich someday, I will never forget that I came from a place of little choices. Financial prudence, or simply thrift, will always follow me no matter what.

I’ve always wanted to be an entrepreneur. What I aspire to be has nothing to do with making tons of money. Instead, it is the epitome of giving back to society for what I’ve taken from them. Unlike the phantom money that made sure I always had enough, I know where all my financial assistance and bursary money came from.

So for everyone else who always had enough like me, know that it’s not wrong to want more – for yourself, for your family, for the ones you love – but remember that one day if you became incredibly successful, always find the heart to make someone’s life a little more than enough. I can swear upon my life that even the slightest help would be the greatest consolation. It goes a long, long way.

CNY Blues 2

A year ago I wrote about having the CNY blues. One year later, my sentiment hasn't changed a bit.


Well, I shouldn't be too quick to judge actually, since it's hasn't even really started yet. But I feel like it's gonna be same old - I'm just happy because it's a holiday. Perhaps I've outgrown the culture and fantasies of CNY, or simply because the festival has been diluted heavily across the years, but it just doesn't feel the same anymore.


I remember the times when the streets were elaborately decorated for the occasion. There was literally no way we could find anywhere to eat if we wanted to, unless we didn't mind overpriced pratas or briyani for a meal. As we were travelling around in my Dad's car, CNY songs were on replay, and we would belt out those yearly tunes in joy. The place everyone had to visit was the festive displays near the Esplanade. It was ridiculous, because we had to squeeze with so many people, and sweat a lot, and walk till our legs were sore, and die of thirst. And when we're done, we'd go back to the car that felt like a steamer due to the sweltering weather.


At night we would eat all the goodies, snuggle up in one small but cosy bedroom in front of the television, in our brand new pyjamas (which we always had to comment on how new it smelled; kinda perverse looking back o.O), and then knock ourselves out with the late night Chinese movies. It was simple, but it was blissful. The thing about CNY is it's never really magical or solemn, but more of a burst of prosperity and happiness. It probably has to do with being Chinese and stuff but yea, it's very cultural. As we grew older, we probably felt that there was no need for over-zealous celebrations and nitty-gritties. We are more practical, sensible people who have lost our grip on the festival. I know it's not a good thing, but it has become more alarmingly prevalent in the younger generation now, this apathy.


I grew up learning that I was the average person who always have enough, but not quite satisfied by that. I'll talk about it in my next post, for now I'm feeling too sleepy to think straight. I think a day might come when I'm too old for late nights.


Here's wishing you a happy CNY!

Lesson Learned

Some values we learn follow us forever, and I'm glad that I had teachers in my life who taught me more than the stuff in textbooks. They are life lessons that I have lived by, and in a very significant manner, altered my perception of the way things work.

In Primary school, I learned that "The government must do what is right for its people, and not what is popular."

In Secondary school, I learned that "A person who thinks he already knows will never learn anything new," and "There are 3 groups of people - the fast, the moderate, and the slow. It does not matter which group we belong to, because the ultimate aim is to get us to the destination when the time comes."

In JC, a question well discussed was "Is the majority always right?". There were arguments on how, although the majority is not always right, it is still a credible indicator of what might be right in the event that all other indicators fail. After all, we are a democratic society. Of course, then, in greyer areas such as homosexuality and education of the Arts, who is to say what is right and what is wrong?

By now you would have figured that I am probably going to talk about the Population White Paper. There has been fierce debate in the parliament, and I must say some politicians argue for the sake of arguing, but I think most of us (yes, the majority) has come to the conclusion that 6.9m people in Singapore is too damn much.

In my honest opinion (for what it's worth), I strongly believe that Singapore needs to slow down, and review where we are now, before we can move on to make game-changing plans and national decisions. Never mind that we didn't have enough foresight to see this. Never mind that we are ferociously debating on what is good and what is not. This is not a time for finger-pointing, not a time to steal the limelight. This is a time for focus, and a time for heavy deliberation. Because as far as I am grateful for all the unpopular but "right" decisions the government has made, such as the ERP system and the CPF, I cannot agree on the need to expand our population for the sake of economic development. It's high time the government trusts its people - the people who voted for them to represent them. Because sometimes what is popular is also right.

The main cause for concern is indubitably overcrowding and foreign competition. For all we know, we are very jaded of the apologies of SMRT, which we have learned in previous years, was a reliable and efficient mode of transport for the masses. It still is, I must admit, but it has made too many blunders in recent times for people to forget what it used to be. We also blame the foreigners in our land for overcrowding. It seems like, to a Singaporean, foreigners are nothing but MRT-hogging, job-stealing, rich-enough-to-spoil-the-economy people out to ruin Singapore and its prosperity. I cannot fathom how myopic these views are. Have we all become provincials?

Times are always hard. It is always the tough people who think more, do more, complain and whine least who survive the longest. Singaporeans need to think about how housing and COE prices are being jacked up. It's a free market, mind you. The prices are determined by demand and supply. As far as I know, it is we who decide that we are willing to fork out that exorbitant 90k for a new car.

Having said that, I do think that our priority is to slow down and review our national decisions, gather feedback, reorganise, and then move on with greater ferocity, efficiency and vigour. It is not a time for tenacity. Your people are shouting but their words are falling on deaf ears. If we wanted economic progress so badly, we would have said so. But we don't; and as the voice and leaders of the people, you need to acknowledge that that's okay, and not be obdurate.

Given a choice, everyone would want to live comfortably. We have no natural resources to speak of, yet we are so high up the GDP per capita rankings. We recognise the government's efforts to put us all the way up there, to fight for high standards of living for Singaporeans, but when will we stop being so competitive? We are the poor kid who had a humble beginning, but worked his way to success through endless toiling, until one day, he is as wealthy as the naturally endowed kid like Qatar, who had tons of inherited wealth. We have become obsessed (pardon me for the strong word) with our wealth and success, never contented, never enough. We want more, more for ourselves, more for our kids, and even more for their kids. But I know, just like the old MRT trains that need a hiatus for complete check-up, Singapore needs a breather for its overworked engines.

As we proceed to greater developments, we need to understand that increasing our population (and reclaiming more land to accommodate people; oh, the blasphemy) is never the solution. We have moved on from labour-intensive to a specialised, skilled workforce. What we need to focus on is training our people to be more efficient, more proficient, and definitely more indispensable. If meritocracy is what we promote, then rightly it should be our push factor. We tell our children at school that they can go at their own pace, but the next thing we do is throw them out into society and expect them to produce results. Some of us can handle it, and some of us can't. "It does not matter which group we belong to, because the ultimate aim is to get us to the destination when the time comes."

It's time to practice what we preach. We advocate self-paced learning, and self-paced progress in our schools. Are we too power-hungry to live by our own mantra? I hope not, because as far as I know, our teachers are doing a pretty darn great job at educating our generation, who will in turn shape Singapore's future.

Yea, and all these coming from a 20 year old kid who hasn't even seen the world yet. Call me naive, call me simplistic, but I firmly believe that regardless how slow we go, we will get there someday.