I Did Go There

Laneway 2012, one life goal complete. Quite a few of her song's are my favourites, but that still means she played one of my favourite songs.

It's been a nice way to cap off the mandatory double gap year called army. I feel changes. I'm suddenly 21, I have things to do with my life. I should pen down other things like my birthday, army summary, a huge recent failure and all the promises I have made to myself. Now is for some music though.

Resolution 2012

Isn't it quite weird to talk about the resolution of the past year, and make resolutions for the future one? Like Matrix: Resolution would have to make sense more than one way.

2011 has been a happy year for me. No major regrets but lots of memories. Taking it one day at a time has helped me cope.

I probably will not have time for resolutions tomorrow.

So, 2012, hi. Please let me:



(a) Try to stop the end of the world.

(b) Quit the vice of smoking.

(c) Travel!

(d) Keep up with existing friends and get to know some people better :).

(e) Attend the school of my dreams.

(f) Work and Study hard.

(g) Be more responsible

(h) Attend church weekly

(i) Celebrate other people's birthdays / festive occasions more awesomely.

(j) Exercise regularly; go back to swimming.

Understanding.

Drinking beer forces me to use the restroom pretty frequently. It happened again, just five minutes ago. Anyone who's been to Baden, holland village, knows of the downsides to drinking at a place with cheap happy hour beer, but only one restroom.

There was a girl standing outside the restroom, which usually indicates that it is currently occupied and I'd have to wait for at least that one more person before it's my turn. Fuck, right?

I looked at her for that confirmation of the "Oh Fuck" situation to see her looking back and me, crying. Not sobbing with audible hiccups but just tears and the look of trying to keep herself together.

How awkward for me because I jacked myself by not checking if the toilet was occupied or not, so I made that check: clear. And how awkward for her, trying to get somewhere private but inadvertently creating a situation where some stranger has to check you out at your most weak and vulnerable.

I looked back at her and we exchanged that look of knowing. I was saved from running to the holland village hawker centre toilet and she was saved from making me do that, but somehow it was made infinitely more awkward.

She was gone by the time I was out of the toilet, back to her table, and me back to mine. To her friend, it was smiles and laughter again, and I guess he didn't notice. He kept talking on the phone, generally relaxed and having a good time. She was shielding her face with her hair and looking down when (I suppose) she lost her composure.

When people cry it's like "help help, life sucks, what am I to do". The possibilities for why she'd be crying could be anything, but it's certain that she didn't want anyone else to know.

By chance I was put in a situation where I could recognize that deception unequivocally. Could I have answered someone's greatest moment of need with a simple "hope things will be alright / please smile instead", I don't know. But these gaps which beg to be bridged eat into me. Because I'd sure appreciate understanding that I'm not alone when I feel that the most. And that's not a very unique feeling. Next time, please do something about it.

A few things came to my attention while going over the uni app essays I had written.

I am incredibly sentimental.

Also, the only writing thata I've done for most of the past two years exists in this blog. Hence I've taken direction too liberally. I bring up topics that interest me and these are meant to both reflect and show the formation of my psyche and predispositions. Writing that way is just not incisive enough. It sounds too detached and meandering because to the reader, it just looks like all these ideass are meaninglessly thrown around since I do not explicitly communicate how it applies to me on a daily basis.

Anyway the circle line is finally working! Cluny and holland are much more crowded now. In some sense I liked places like holland village and serene centre because they are places I grew up in. Now that they are so accessible it is different because all the bustle was hardly there before. That is just bias on my part because the circle line must be good for business and just making things easy.

Essays

I haven't had anything to blog about. All my energies and all I want to say are being channelled into my university essays. Some are coming out nicely, others are too academic and some just have no feelings at all. Rest assured though, I'm trying to be as wild as I can with it.

Let me just run with that and maybe when it's all over I'll post some of the nice ones up.

The idea that there could be someone out there, thinking of me, maybe praying for me, is something I find it so difficult to put my faith in. Because it would be too wonderful that when I am down and out, someone else is actually wishing me well, and despite whatever constraint of time and space, can't do it in person.

That's why if I have said any kind words to anyone, most of the time on their birthday, I really mean it, and I probably think of you more often than that. I can't be sure there are people who think of me the same way when I need it, but it is nice to believe so.

Anyway I thought I had gotten some exciting readership when all the comments on my blog turn out to be spam. Seriously a real let down.

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag?

Feeling dispensible would really make me feel worthless. As it is, transience is something that can be worried about. If everything is so temporary, how real can it be to you? And if it isn't real then why live, why hold on to anything at all. That IS the driving force behind all this search for truth. To find something immutable, everlasting - whether it be in art, philosophy, science, love, memories, experiences, religion.

And being dispensible just means you are on the receiving end of someone else's transitions. If everyone's life was to be described as cigarettes smoked, then someone dispensible is not even the guy smoking the cigarettes, but is another of those butts lying on the ground. It burned brightly for awhile, and if you're lucky there is still a smoking ember upon being discarded, and growing old and brown and trodden upon.

I had been feeling that way recently, but then recalled the story of Don Ritchie. Seriously go read about it and let that warm your heart as it did for mine. You can even play How to Save A Life on the side, because that would be really special to know.

Certain ideas floating around got highlighted and ticked off.

Some of these make me extremely happy to be on the brink of new and exciting things.

Then there's one that contradicts the carefully woven faabric of an idea I hold dear. It took apart a base chord so that now I'm doing a deconstruction of the entire endeavour. It is eating every little thing up from the bottom up. It was by my account, that things panned out in this direction, since I pushed this catch-22 into being. I made the veil come off which spirals me down this rabbit hole. I actually want to believe in something else but I'm almost forced to jettison ship. I may do that if some other way out comes by, but for now I'm just trying to bail.

Anyway, a couple of questions.

Does singapore plant so many trees so that our soldiers will be camouflaged even in the urban environment? Because last I checked, the predominant colours in the urban environment are monochrome, or something close like beige, or red bricks. Basically not green, whether it's pixelized or not. I'm bringing this up because that's what the commentator on national day asserted.

Am I weird to be disturbed by coincidental family reunions over dinner?

Doing my best in everything seems incongruent with how I am no longer willing to cover for my flaws. It is not a "cannot be bothered" attitude in the sense that I get lazy to shave and clip my finger nails.

No. I like to think that I want 'meek'. I'm just a very average 20 year old human being and I'm trying to stay aafloat. There isn't anything great I've done that breaks boundaries or cure malaria. I doubt myself even with the simple things.

I like to improve on my imperfections but admitting to them is negative reinforcement I hope isn't my way of conceding that I'm never going to be the person I want to be (or that others would like me as).

But this is how it has to work. If I let you listen to the new song of my life, you'd understand.

I'm bad with doing it for myself. I almost gave up two weeks ago. That was until I was forced to do something no one else was willing to, because hey, everyone is tired and everyone is human. I thought about that, and realised I relieved someone else of the intense suffering she was being put through. I found strength; I could run I could fly. It made me feel like God gave me gifts but they are only useful to others.

That reminded me about the kind of motivation that dictates how I'm going to continue handling my life. I really don't know if many people see it, but one person who has, provoked a strange dilemma that does more harm than good. It is good that one person believes in me. I think he knows what it is about that is sung in the song of my life. I'd wanna let more people hear what it is, but like many other things now, it is secret.

Night Before Conversion

I think I've changed to become somewhat sullen and quiet lately. This is just a mood, but it is not one that will be useful as I am thrown into yet another trial.

Last night I got to spend time with best friends. The darkest past reached out to me and it scared me and filled me with the fear and regret of knowing I can be so base. The rejection I feel towards myself can't be dealt with. I feel it like old plastic tape sticking to me. I want to get it off but it has become rotten and disintegrates. Or somewhat like the sap of a jackfruit. It smells and it sticks and you can try to remove it with your hands but that sticks too and doing anything to get it off is just making matters worse. I remember it was said that if I don't believe in myself, how can I be convincing to others that my eternal spirit shines something different.

Resolute is the concept I use to try and maintain this principle.

And just then I allowed myself to be mesmerized the same way I would be to watch a light show, or fireworks. Ultimately it is illusionary of the night sky which I reach out to. But I let myself be fooled for awhile, and it did make me happy.

I felt like I begin on a clean slate. It could be the same, as good. But different that now I know, feel and do.

And that is the double edged sword. I realise everyday that I'm faced with a mountain of doubt so big that I can't see over the top of it. But then there's the hope that scaling it will amount to more than a trip of sisyphus and his rock. Every little step I take, I'm a bit closer to an ideal. It is another thing for ideals to be made into reality, but that one was never in my power to begin with.