Fernweh

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Fernweh - a German word referring to the feeling of homesickness for a place you have never been to.

How does one feel homesick for a place they have never been to? It could be that they've spent a considerable amount of time second-handedly experiencing the place through pictures, narratives etc...and start to build a personal sanctum inside fashioned in the likeness of that place to retreat to when times get tough. When that place becomes increasingly ingrained in your consciousness, you begin to long for it in reality as well. To actually be there, to experience it with your own senses, and to most importantly assure yourself that dreams and reality aren't that separate after all. After a while, longing becomes a sort of desperation as if you're struggling for air. You start to absorb pictures and other materials almost feverishly as attempts to stave off the desire to reach that place. And in the process, it mistakenly becomes home since going to that place seems more like returning to it, more like giving yourself relief.

My personal sanctum is not a single place, but a world all to myself. A world sewn together with different places that I would travel to easily.

In one place, I walk a golden yellow-carpeted wide road between rows of trees with light filtering through the autumn leaves alone almost like the one above in Showa Kinen Koen. At the end of the road would be a little wooden lodgehouse with a cosy fireplace, wooden shelves filled with books, a tidy  kitchen and pantry with fresh groceries, a cupboard with a collection of all sorts of tea in neat little jars, fresh flowers in a vase on a side table, blue curtains flapping in the wind...

In another, I'm walking along green mountain ridges overlooking a vast ocean with azure skies overhead. I'll sit at the edge and watch the horizon where the waters stretch endlessly towards as I feel the breeze on my face. This looks like Matengai in Shimane, and like Gran Pulse in FFXIII!

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And in yet another place in this world, I'll be treading through snow piling as high as above my ankles, watching as my breath forms cloudy wisps as I exhale. The world here would be pristine white all over and the skies would be a clear blue. I'll walk on and on alone, drinking in the quiet yet majestic view around me. Then it would start to snow and I'd stop and stare at the white bits floating down for a while, before slowly making my way back to my little wooden house where I'll sit near the window with a cup of hot tea and a book, keeping warm by the cosy fireplace.

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This is how part of my sanctum would look like, if I could create it in reality. A world where I am the only person enjoying the beauty of nature exclusively. It won't be mine, still, but it doesn't belong to anybody else too.

However in reality, home is still where your loved ones are, beyond just places and locations.

Idle Minds

Echoes rent the air sharply with every step I took as I approached the corridor. I stopped. Before me were numerous identical doors - I had to pass through one of them.

But which? I may not be able to retreat immediately, should I enter the wrong one. With every passing second, the doors seemed to blend and merge into a continuous wall.

There is no time, choose. I could feel someone's gaze on my back, but tempted as I was, I do not turn.

I willed my feet to move again, towards the door my instincts singled out. Reaching out, I place my trembling palms on its wooden surface, and inhaled deeply with shaking breath.

This is it. I could hear throbbing in my ears from the palpitations of my heart. The door gave an extended creak as it revealed a glimpse of what was lying in wait for me, and I took a step forward.

There it was - unmoving, filling up almost half of the space.

I sighed with relief and smiled. This cubicle is clean. :)


Haha it's post semester 1! And now that all the projects and exams are over, I've quite a bit of time to just slack and waste my life away...for this month, that is.

When my mind is not fixated on a task, or worrying about the pains of reality like work performance, future plans, etc.,  it tends to wander into escapades in my imagination, or come up with trash such as the brief passage you just read above. And it isn't too difficult, or doesn't take much for my mind to do all that - most of my thoughts and ideas are stimulated by what my senses pick from around me.

For example, I was in the public toilet at Jems yesterday and became conscious of the actions and mind process that would probably be experienced by a female (I'm sorry to say I'm not well-versed in the affairs of the opposite gender) when she pays a timely visit to the loo. If the toilet is not crowded, females have the leisure of going through and picking the cubicle she fancies most to rest her derriere on. However the real horror comes when there is a line in the toilet and you're waiting for your turn. As you wait, you try to guess which cubicle fate assigns you to, and perhaps you cross your fingers hoping the person before you using the same cubicle doesn't leave behind some bizarre artwork as a warped gesture of welcome, or parting gift...whichever you interpret it to be. On the other hand, the relief from "getting" a cubicle that is clean while seemingly insignificant is one of the best things that could happen to make your day. (Okay I may have exaggerated a little.) Hence, inspired by the public toilet at Jems yesterday, I wrote the passage above!

Idle minds are the devil's workshop. I wonder if this constitutes being idle in the mind.

Fleeting, Flickering

How often does an average human think about death?

To wonder about when and how it will come, inevitably. To ponder about whether things like souls, heaven, hell or reincarnation exist. To worry about whether in your absence would the world be any different, even in the slightest. And finally, to realise how very much alive we are in the present, and many other discoveries that would haunt you for a long time before life pulls you back into its distracting frenzy and makes you forget about how very insignificant and temporary our existence is in this grand scheme of the universe and time.

These past three days as I sat among tables of relatives both close and distant watching my cousins perform funeral rituals at my uncle's funeral, I've been thinking about death. One of the first things I do after arriving at a funeral is to go and spend a few minutes looking at the deceased lying in his coffin. It's a little difficult for many to approach the coffin and look down into that glass window upon the face of someone whom they've seen moving around, talking, breathing and being very much alive. As you gaze upon his face, you start to think about how he'd never open those eyes again, and become conscious of his absence from this world, from now on. And then you find that there's this queer lump forming in your throat, because the reality that he has already departed and can no longer be in contact in any way possible starts to sink in rather painfully.

I watched as the faces of family members, nephews, nieces, grandchildren become contorted with grief, and become overwhelmed with sorrow and loss. The face that affected me most of all was my grandmother. For which mother would want to see her own son depart before she does? To see her own flesh and blood grow from a crying infant into a fully grown man with his own family until his shrivelled, sickly state on his deathbed?

Death is a subject that chills me to the core. It seems so final, and relentless. It feels like a great, heavy door that shuts tightly between those left behind on this world and those who have departed. It's even more unsettling that no one knows or even has a vague clue about what is beyond that door - we only have our assumptions. Some day too, my turn would come where my life would be extinguished quietly, and all that would be left is nothing more but a shell.

This Time of the Year, Again.

Lately I've been writing a lot more frequently than before, which is evidence that there's been a lot going through my mind. Apart from a couple of close friends I hold dear and my family members, I don't really talk much about my feelings or initiate a discussion unless it's about something my own perception is inadequate to make sense of. Other than that, I find a quiet and passive sense of comfort in putting my feelings into words on a new draft or on the blank pages of my diary. I am able to make the intangible, insecure and formless ideas and thoughts in my mind into something visible and real, as if I've broken a sort of spell that binds me in an internal chaos.

It's close approaching my favourite time of the year. It's the onset of autumn, and the nearing of Christmas. My eyes linger on pictures of the autumn scenery elsewhere as I scroll through Instagram, fervently wishing I could see them for myself soon. Streets in town and shopping malls start to put out those Christmas lights and decorations that illuminate the night, creating such a gentle and warm atmosphere. I like to gaze at the golden-yellow lights that line the roofs of a mall my family car often drives past. I've always looked forward to this time of the year - it's such a fitting way to decelerate and end another year's worth of experiences both good and bad.

Even though these are festive periods I always look forward to, it's this time of the year that melancholy hits me hardest as I reflect on what has happened in the passing year. As I admire the red, orange and yellow of autumn landscapes, there is a bittersweet pain inside as I give a long empty sigh at the fleeting beauty. When I walk past Christmas lights and decorations in the midst of crowds of friends, families, couples enjoying and immersing themselves in the mood, I smile to myself and think "How nice" and realise that I'm looking at a scene I secretly long to belong to.

I remember as a child, this time of the year signified something vastly different than what it is to me now. I had always looked forward to Christmas with innocent, simple yet overwhelming anticipation as every year I would run in my new dress with children my age during a game of catch, darting through the adults who would be standing around, eating and talking to one another. Sometimes I would be stopped by an aunt or uncle, older sister or brother midway through the chase to be presented with a small but neatly wrapped Christmas present and a pat on the head as I thanked them properly before running off again. Following that, us children would later be caught by our parents who brought us along from house to house as Christmas carols were sung, cake was served, and everyone had a great night.

When I look at how much my perception of this time of the year has changed, I realise how much time has passed, how much I've grown and how despite things seem different now, Christmas still retains its magical element for me inside. No matter how much I may change, or how much the world might change, there are still constants - and one of them would be this time of the year, every year.

About People

Humans.

They are social beings who interact. Through contact we make reality, which sometimes may not even be real or make sense at all as hours of a good time spent are swallowed up in an instant and all that's left is a memory. When we look someone in the eyes, or tap them on the shoulder, or call them by a name, our sense of belonging - or even existence is justified.

Sometimes people embrace each other; sometimes they fight one another. Sometimes we love someone or some place so badly we wish for certain death to rid us of the unbearable longing inside; sometimes loneliness makes the same death inviting as a form of escape. Sometimes we want to be able to cry tears of joy and hear hearty laughter that permeates the night sky; sometimes we squint our eyes tightly shut and cover our ears in a futile attempt to rid ourselves of even sensing human contact.

I'm not someone who is good with human contact.

I could feign a bright smile and make myself laugh in social situations. I don't have to, but there's an automatic switch in me that tells me the social world is like a stage and I ought to play my part. I know I don't like deceiving others, but that voice in me assures me it's just going to be temporary - that these people are soon going to make an exit out of my life anyway so why not just keep up the act without having to feel guilty? Besides, I'm sure almost everyone out there wears a facade as well and I can't be the only one. In fact, if one is too honest, that person would most likely be exploited or shunned.

This is how I view human contact. This is the truth. There is no need to paint an unnecessary picture of pleasantry and earnestness.

Even though my cheeks may hurt, even though my smile vanishes almost instantly after someone says goodbye and walks away from my sight, I still continue. I'll still put on a show for as long as I still see the same people. After gradually moving from one level to the next, I start on a new sheet of paper - the people from before has become history. I've been so used to such a mindset that I get uncomfortable and increasingly defensive when people don't leave my life when they should.

It gets tiring to have to be pleasant all the time because most of the time people don't really care enough to want to listen to your problems on top of their own. Probably because I seldom willingly tell others about my problems that many of the people in my life before tended to pour out theirs to me. And when I find myself thinking "Ah, how troublesome." or "There she goes again." I realise that maybe this is what others would think if I did the same, which makes me more determined than ever to find other ways to vent my frustration or think of a rational way to solve the problem on my own without having to rely on others.

I felt that this way of thinking could make me emotionally stronger and independent, that when others are lamenting and beating themselves down during tribulations I would emerge unscathed, undying and victorious in my own way. Yet I've also come to realise that this is part of the reason why I'm always so distant from human contact.

To be human is to experience joy, sorrow, pain, frustration. To be a social being is to share all of these emotions. If I keep them to myself on the pretext of being strong, that would mean I do not need others. And when there is no need for a listening ear, an encouraging pat on the back, a consoling hug, or someone to call your name to break your attention away from suffering by yourself, then you are essentially choosing to be by yourself. You cannot blame circumstances for this. You reap what you sow.

Sometimes I ask myself - what am I afraid of through just weakening my defences just a little to allow others into my life. Of being hurt, betrayed or cheated to the extent of never ever letting others in again? Of compromising supposed strength for exposing my weakness to others and being subject to their actions? Of possibly being too happy only to be hurt even more when such joy is taken away later? Or of losing my current state of mind at this very moment, of losing rationality, or even my warped sense of superiority that I'm in better control of my feelings than most other people?

People, who cleave onto one another for contact, for justification, for themselves. We sometimes seem quite a pathetic bunch don't we?

Transience

My outlook on life is very much influenced by the Japanese aesthetic perspective of wabi-sabi and its concept of acknowledging the transient, fleeting and imperfect nature of life. Wabi-sabi is also said to be derived from the Buddhist teaching of sanboin, or three marks of existence - impermanence, imperfection and non-self.

What's interesting to me was that I had been unconsciously and progressively internalising this way of thinking before I identified it - meaning that I had been and am still very intimately embracing these three strands of thought before I learnt very recently that they formed part of Buddhist teaching or Japanese aestheticism. It's probably through years of exposure to and interest in Japanese culture that such concepts gradually became ingrained in me. Hence when I realised that all the while my mindset had been exemplifying evidences of wabi-sabi or sanboin, I felt a sense of gratification.

Because of impermanence, we desperately seek to preserve things, to defy the trickling down of time. 

Because of imperfection, we strive for excellence, and become continually unsatisfied and disappointed easily when things fail us.

Because of vanity and narcissism, we grow self-centred and defensive, and quick to find flaws in others.

It is only human to want to be immortal or to immortalise, to seek perfection, and to find self-worth in various ways. I constantly dream of a life with no loss of whatsoever too. Yet instead of subjecting myself to a futile struggle against inevitability, I've come to a conclusion that acceptance, tolerance and appreciation is the ultimate way to live out my fleeting existence.

The world we live in is both beautiful and cruel at the same time. I have been greatly privileged to live a good life so far, so it would definitely be easier for me to say that fighting is unnecessary and futile. Yet, there are privileged people still concerning themselves with petty affairs, failing to consider the bigger picture. I find that such a waste, since this life is short.

I'm still terrified, especially about impermanence. All too often, I take things for granted only to realise their worth too late, and despite being aware I never truly learn. Ideas of immortality and freezing time or time travelling are therefore especially intriguing and tantalising. As I acknowledge such thoughts, I begin to understand more about the need for religion to stave away such fears or emptiness, to give an assurance of either an eternal life after death, or a second shot at life through reincarnation.

Good and Evil

It's Week 12 of my first semester in NUS - I'm nearing the light at the end of this tunnel. As project deadlines approach and pass, I find myself breathing easier and relaxing a bit more. However, I'm also starting to feel a little sentimental about not being able to enjoy classes with my module mates anymore at the end of this semester, especially with my freshman seminar module 'Heroism and Society'.

Just this morning I sent my final project off to Prof Goh after proofreading it for the umpteenth time with eyes squinted at my monitor screen, as I sipped my tea and chewed on bread in my pajamas. It was an individual research paper on the hero (or heroine) of my choice - Angelina Jolie. I'm a little proud of this project of mine, seeing that I invested quite a bit of time and effort into nurturing it from an inkling of an idea to a 3000 word paper. In August before starting school I never would've imagined completing a research paper (on Angelina Jolie to boot) - of course, I had very useful input from Prof and some feedback from classmates during my presentation which helped me in refining my thesis, and moral support from the most understanding parents in the world to keep me going.

So for today's seminar (the second last), Prof did a recap of the things we discussed over the course of seminars conducted this semester. I enjoyed today's discussion, particularly the analysis of the deeper relationship between heroes and villains; good and evil.

I've always toyed with the idea of heroes and villains each having a justified necessity to exist. And in doing so, I've always aligned myself with the dark side - or more specifically, the notion of shunning intimacy or collectivity, of having idealistic hope and a desperation to push for change. I tend towards feelings of futility and resignation (my idea of acceptance), and find myself detesting attitudes associated with blind fervour and overt positivity that just comes off as a flimsy attempt at escaping reality.

This thinking was especially prominent back in my secondary school days, when I constantly referenced myself as the villain in upsetting diary entries about my failure to gain acknowledgement from my band members even though I was trying so hard to be an exemplary band major. I grew sick of the cajolement that the teachers, instructors and leaders - even myself - perpetuated to the members about having the potential to succeed and win, when we were quite clearly failing on so many aspects. So towards the end and probably even up till now, I gave up trying to fight for things that were dying. I gave up being sincere. In fact, I wanted to ruin things to prove to everyone just how weak things actually are. And I suspect that somewhere inside me was a desire to see the anguish on everyone's faces when we did fail. On this note of supposed extreme negativity, I consoled myself with the idea that my existence as villain was necessary. Without villains to project criticism on, heroes would probably cease to seize the spotlight. I became content with being anyone but the hero. I needed someone to project my vengefulness on.

Back to the seminar - we examined two different thoughts of perceiving good and evil, both of which are referenced from religious ideologies namely Manichaeism and Hinduism.

Manichaeism is more familiarly recognised as an offshoot of Christianity that views good and evil - or more specifically light and darkness - as eternally opposing forces. The preaching of hope and anticipation for the return of the Saviour and the final defeat of Satan that represents the indictment of evil perpetuates the mindset of evil as a morally opposing entity that needs to be defeated. It has a large influence on Western thought where movies and narratives almost always present an evil force that is eventually defeated with the triumphant victory of the good.

Hinduism on the other hand presents Brahman as a single, universal entity that constitutes all facets of being - including both good and evil forces. It posits that there is a co-existence of good and evil, and that while a person may strive to be morally upright there would still be an underlying threat of moral ambiguity which may or may not emerge. Even if they do emerge as actions condemned as morally upsetting, this ideology essentially seeks to maintain that we should accept them as a naturally occurring reality of being human. The Freudian thought ties in closely with this philosophy, since psychoanalysis is interested in the depths of our unconscious dark tendencies known as the "Id" suppressed underneath our ego through which mould ourselves to appear rational.

I find myself very much drawn towards the latter philosophy, since I identify with it more closely. It seems too idealistic or simplistic to categorise elements into exclusively good and evil entities, even though most would think we are all essentially inclined to uprightness based on experiences of anxious moral obligation in us when we see acts of evil carried out before our eyes. Yet, when we condemn such acts, there is sometimes this creeping realisation and suspicion that somewhere within us there is a similar potential to do evil. For myself, I'm very guilty of putting up a strong super ego in front of others where I desperately try to present myself as a good person worthy of acceptance and favour. I smile and laugh, come off as very polite and friendly, and strive to gain favour with others by being agreeable. All of it is very insincere. Sometimes I feel like a disguised time bomb, where I could potentially detonate and destroy the image I have set up for myself. But for now, I'm clinging on to my rationality to maintain myself since it would work to my disadvantage if I let my thanatic instincts loose.

It irritates me so when I see people going with the Manichaeistic thought. They set themselves up in a position that focusses on the evil of others, such as taking strong offence at a remark or action and presenting their responses or reactions as justified morally upright acts. It is too brash in my opinion. It makes me wonder why we cannot afford try to understand things more, to consider these "evil acts" as an inevitable part of life and accept them without having to raise a conflict or start a fight. Doing so achieves nothing. Tell me, would any proud human suddenly decide that what they are fighting for is actually groundless and humbly admit defeat easily? If so, why do you think they started fighting in the first place? It just makes for a futile cycle of unnecessary waste of energy. I absolutely detest conflict. Especially futile ones.

But ultimately, I long for a reconciliation with both strands of thought. While I identify with the latter more, it presents a stagnation. It is very possible that acknowledging such futility leads to an increased need and desire for redemption that could be provided by the Manichaeistic thought, where good could one day actually overcome the evil within us.

Hidden by gods

Yesterday I decided to take a break from work by watching Spirited Away, and I fell in love with it all over again.

We know this well-received Studio Ghibli film by its English title, but I felt that it did not fully embody the sense of its Japanese title - 千と千尋の神隠し Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi, which directly translates into Sen and Chihiro's spiriting away.

Kamikakushi - can be broken down into kami which means "god", and kakushi which means "to hide". When expressed together, it denotes the spiriting away of a person when a god is angered, such that the victim is "hidden" from our world. Aside from its literal meaning, kamikakushi is also referred to as a form of "social death" from the real world.

This is one example of why Japanese language can be so beautiful. Some terms are expressed so artfully that its sense can be felt beyond its own meaning. Kamikakushi feels so quietly mysterious, magical and adventurous at the same time, making it seem almost inviting as a form of escape. If I consider its reference as a "social death", I believe I have died a few times by now.

The world in Spirited Away is surreal and yet familiar in a comfortable way. Following the heroine Chihiro (or Sen), it felt as though I was feeling at home through her character. There is always a gravity towards the realm of the otherworldly, yet the consciousness of reality is also ever present and lingering, serving as a slight reminder and warning not to lose yourself. This was represented by the significance of names in the film. Spirits or humans who wander into this realm assume a new name and therefore identity when working in the bathhouse. They unconsciously start to grow into their new identities and lose the memory of their real names and hence their past, forgetting their original purpose and being confined to this world without a way to escape. Chihiro's name was shortened into Sen and almost forgot her name until she was made aware by Haku.

I sometimes feel as if I wouldn't mind if I lost all my memories unconsciously and begin to live in a new identity, to start anew. It's such a convenient way to erase all my worries and problems. I would want to be swept away from the face of the earth and live somewhere no one can find me, where I could live in quiet bliss. However when I start to think about what I'd lose in the process, such ideas suddenly becomes less affordable and that's when I realise that I can't exactly rid myself of the shackles on my ankles.

My name is the very proof of that. The fact that I have a name by which people refer to shows how confined I am to social reality. The day when my name becomes obsolete is when I am free of contact, and there is no more need to be referred to be someone else. Should I be thankful that my name still has a use, or lament the fact that I am bound to reality?

Water

Water. Because I've been downing gallons of it over these few days in a bid to flush away every strain of the flu virus in my system.

Anyway I learnt something new yesterday. Did you know that you could be dehydrated even despite drinking lots of water? This condition is attributed to adrenal stress. I'm kinda lazy to explain what it is exactly, but generally it is sort of slight malfunction of the kidneys in its production of some substances due to stress in the body that can be derived from lack of sleep or mental strain. As such, water is not properly absorbed by the body resulting in dehydration.

Why the random subject? It's not that random actually. It started when I fell sick and began to gulp down cups and flasks of water almost continuously over these past few days. However even despite my drastically increased water intake, I found that my lips were drying up and cracking, ulcers were forming in my gums and my urine was dark yellow (cue disgusted expressions) - and it puzzled and worried me. Thoughts like "Do I have diabetes" and "Is it kidney failure" were popping in my head every time I took note of the symptoms, which prompted me to consult the Internet for an explanation. And that's how I came to be enlightened about adrenal stress.

Even though I was ill, I wasn't silently rejoicing and revelling in using my flu as an excuse for more rest (and that really means play), like how I would back when I was in my uniformed school days. University life has indeed changed my mindset. On the contrary, I was panicking and worrying about whether I could still meet the deadlines and prepare for tutorials in my condition. As I reflect on these past few days in retrospect, I was in awe at how drastically I've changed in my working attitude.

Worried that I would not be able to clear the list of work I made to clear over the weekend from Friday onwards, I woke early each day and stayed at my desk for the most of the day until late night, working continuously at each task while occasionally taking breaks in between by watching Buzzfeed videos and anime.

My parents constantly implored me to rest properly in order to recover, but still supported me by letting me continue to work while coming into my room at times to check on my temperature and giving me all sorts of medicine and weird concoctions to help me feel better. Honestly, I feel bad that I'm worrying them so and not spending as much time as I should with them during busy periods like this. My parents are really the most supportive and encouraging parents too, because I was talking to them about finding my eldest sister Stella's university thesis and project works and feeling discouraged that I would never be able to reach her standard. They assured me that I'm only in my first semester and that I would eventually get there, just like how a primary school student would look at a secondary level essay and feel intimidated only to realise that it is achievable when he reaches that level himself. Their wedding anniversary is next week, so I ought to do something to thank them properly.

So anyway, I was really getting stressed as I worked, especially for my Quantitative Reasoning project work since it was hard to get all my group mates together on the same page to work effectively. I felt horrible and useless at times but I could never fully tear myself away from my laptop because it had become an unhealthy source of assurance that I was being productive.

Over the span of these few days I noted my symptoms but didn't check on what it actually was yet until yesterday when I managed to clear most of my work. When I looked through the to-do list I was pleasantly surprised that I was ahead of schedule, which made me relieved since I could now relax and properly rest. When I learnt about adrenal stress after that, everything clicked. It was due to the fact that I had concentrated so much time and effort into work that my already weak body became more stressed and could not properly absorb water. To test whether I really had adrenal stress, I observed my symptoms again since I was relaxing for the most of today and found that my body was getting hydrated again. At least, I didn't have diabetes haha.

This taught me a lot about the consequences of overworking. However I can't say for sure that I've learnt from my "mistake", because beyond health concerns, I've become psychologically attuned to work as a sort of distraction by itself such that I could lose myself in it and feel justified in doing so. It is unhealthy and I'm not just harming myself, but indirectly affecting my family as well. I should try to at least not resign myself to such a mindset and work on a more effective way of being productive.

My Sister is Married

Stacey is married. After 27 years of being a daughter of the Leong household, after 19 years of being my sister, after about 7 years of courtship with her husband - all of these numbers still in the midst of increasing.

I was never close to my sister while growing up. She gave me the early impression of a temperamental, unloving sister whose job is to tell on me to my parents and get me in trouble all the time. I stuck close to my eldest sister, and it felt as if I would never be able to get along with her.

However, my sister is more than all that, and I was never mature enough to understand or appreciate her until I was in my late teens. She worked really hard and gave only her best in everything - her work, her spiritual walk in Christ, and the family. She was involved in all matters while I conveniently took the backseat and kept distant from all that is troublesome. Even though I'm in university, she still fussed over me and kept reminding me not to stress myself so. Every time I scored well in my national exams, she was always proud of me, going as far as to praise me to her friends and rewarding me despite having had poorer results than me back in her school days. I was much more privileged than she was in her childhood, but she never resented me at all.

Whenever I pass by her vacant room now, I'm hit over and over again by the reality that she has indeed left the nest. I'm not alone - I have Mom and Dad. But when I try to identify these feelings welling up inside me, I recognise them as loneliness. I miss my sister, and it'll take some time getting used to her absence.

I already foresaw this months ago when I contemplated about how people will eventually leave one by one, but it would be a mistake to say I was prepared mentally and emotionally. As the wedding procession neared the end and the couple made their thank you speeches, I had a lump forming at the back of my throat and my eyes were burning. I was trying so hard to suppress the emotions, but when my sister started with "I will miss home" and thanked me for the times we shared interests in cooking, YouTube videos and music, there was nothing else I could do from crying there and then. It was a good thing that I was blocked by a pillar, because I wouldn't want her to see me in that state.

I miss her, but I'm happy for her. There's nothing I can do that will ever be enough to repay her for what she has done for me - I can only do my best to fulfil her absence at home to the best of my ability in place of her and my eldest sister Stella. She's walked on ahead to the next stage in life as I watch her back, just like in that picture.

Dear Stacey, I pray that your marriage will be a blissful one.

Counting My Blessings

Today, I feel better than yesterday.

Nothing much has changed - I'm still beat down by school work and projects and am still pretty much unwilling to fully emerge from my shell. Yet, I feel as if it's easier to breathe for now and reflect on what are the things that made me feel better. The fact that I'm still sane and rational is evidence enough that while life has been challenging me more than ever before, I've still got a fair share of good experiences and memories thus far to keep me going.

First off, my limited edition Final Fantasy XIII original soundtrack pack arrived last week! FFXIII has been around since a few years ago so my obsession with it is really late - but that doesn't diminish its value one bit! I found a collector on Carousell selling it new and unopened, who expressed his surprise that there were still FFXIII fans around since the product had been on his page for about a year now when I met up with him to collect my prized specimen.

I was nearly squealing out of excitement when I finally got home and started to carefully unbox the contents which consisted of the soundtrack CD, a bonus audio CD and a picture book! I'm still waiting to borrow a disc drive to load the songs on my Macbook's iTunes since my laptop doesn't come with one. This has become one of my most prized possessions next to the Naruto Live Spectacle programme booklet and Card Captor Sakura CDs. I plan to buy the set of FFXIII figurines from the same dude after I clear up displaying space and get my next paycheck!

Stacey's wedding is just 4 days away from today. Time really flies, doesn't it. Another bird is going to leave the nest, and I will be alone now. It gets a little difficult just imagining how far she's going to be - and I don't mean physical distance. She would have her own family and matters to worry about now, just like Stella. But for now, I'll just be happy for her as she walks down to aisle to the next stage in life. I've been a really blessed girl as my sisters always look out for me and guide me along. Even though their hands are full now and can't hold mine anymore, I'm still being cared for and protected.

Next up, I'm really looking forward to another outing with Iggy! We've - or rather, Iggy (as he always emphasises on being credited) - already gotten our tickets to Halloween Horror Nights 5! I'm stoked because this would be my virginal HHN experience after missing out on so many years due to the untimely examinations and projects in school. Ever since I've started university, Iggy and I began to meet up or talk less often than before, though every subsequent outing or conversation still retained its element of fun since we're on comfortable terms with each other. While I pride myself in being a horror junkie, brave and all, I'm still pretty nervous for HHN5 since the reviews hailed this year's as being scarier than ever and it's been a long time since I've watched something horror-related. Nevertheless, I'm all in for a good scare!

I've only one more sociology mid-term paper to go, followed by the many project works I've to keep track of concurrently. However, I'm encouraged by the satisfactory results I've received so far. My sociology take home assignment got a B, which gave me a huge sense of relief because I honestly did not know exactly what I was writing! Also, the results for the linguistics mid-terms today came out later on the same day and I scored really well, which meant that my efforts paid off. I'm also reminded that while project work can be really stressful at times, I'm not alone - I've got group members whom I can seek help and assurance from.

With all these in mind, I will muster up strength and hope, and continue to push on.

Accelerating again

Recess week will be over by the end of today, and it's back to school when I open my eyes tomorrow.
There's a quiet wave of dread that washes over me when I think about resuming school - the deadlines, discussions, people. But I breathe in again and tell myself to be brave.

It's not that school's horrible or anything of that sort. It's almost like the feeling a person who has been adrift in the ocean would feel when he identifies the rough rocks ahead and realises that the waves carrying him are propelling him forward, about to crash and break against the boulders. Okay that sounds dreadful enough. But I think I just need to get back into the flow of things and everything will be fine, I guess.

The week has been somewhat productive for me. I managed to get revision and work done, though I could've done more of course. There's no point regretting what I should've or should not have done now that the week is at its end, so I shall just be content.

Work aside, the week has been a rather melancholic one for me since I spent most of my time home alone in my room save for one day. It wasn't lonely at all since I had work to focus on and occasional revels in anime and gameplays, and the control I had over my surroundings suited me well. I was comfortable and happy. Yet moments like these don't last all day - I still had to face the knowledge of reality and its exhausting social exchanges, waiting for me to return.

On Tuesday, I was out for the most of the day alone. I collected my Macbook from school in the morning and brought it home, before setting out again towards town. I was to go shopping for a dress to wear at my sister's wedding occurring about a fortnight from now. It was my first time going out alone to such a commercialised area without a clear agenda other than to just look for a suitable dress I liked.

I wandered the streets and malls of Orchard among throngs of people, disappearing amongst them, losing my identity and feeling the insignificance against such a big world filled with an abundance of people like myself. It was comforting to know I could blend in and still be by myself despite the crowd around me, but it was still exhausting.

I caught Inside Out at The Cathay in the evening after I found my dress, since I was already out and I haven't watched the movie. This was another first - watching a movie alone. Just the thought of doing something - anything even of a scale and significance that small - for the first time excited me a little. Doing things alone isn't as sad and lonely as everyone thinks. I could even laugh naturally when the guy at the ticket counter said "Oh, I guess you're just passing time alone?" with a smile when he realised I was just buying a ticket for myself.

The movie was enjoyable, but the heightened feelings dipped a little afterwards as I stepped out into the cool night air alone and watched the bright city lights around me along with groups and pairs of people laughing and talking as they passed by me. I had mixed feelings. I was feeling comfortable yet a little sad, at peace and yet tired. I took the bus home, leaning my head against the cool windows and watching the lights, the streets, the people run past me as I listened to music on my earphones.

All of it feels like I'm watching a silent movie, and the only sounds I hear are my own thoughts.

The week was not only melancholic, but slow-paced as well even though it flew by quickly. I guess that's why thinking about the fast pace of school makes me stir uncomfortably.

It's time to accelerate again, to see a new dawn.

Worlds

"When I couldn't see a future and I was afraid. 

When the future was clear and it hurt to see, I just close my eyes and lose myself in happier days."

- Vanille, Final Fantasy XIII

If there was a world I could create and live in, I would fashion one in the likeness of the splendid universe of Final Fantasy XIII. I haven't had the time to complete the game from where I last left off due to school, but I decided to just watch the rest of the story via a gameplay walkthrough instead.

I want to live in a world that is not only breathtakingly beautiful, but a world that has a place for me to take, a purpose to fulfil. I want to be able to feel alive from being threatened with death, and I want to have an entity I could focus my energy on and fight against without restraint. And at the end after a long struggle, I want to be able to fully savour sweet relief.

In this reality, I can't even scream without worrying about a possible consequence. The things that plague me are monotonous yet excruciating at the same time. I feel like a tied up puppet, and I long to break free and live. Yet, I'm always holding back due to fear and uncertainty.

Every time I confront my consciousness, I talk only about how bitter and difficult this world is. We never seem to have a conversation about hunting down solutions or seeking out a change. I just retreat to my world inside and seek refuge there, revelling in the non-existent, idealistic haven I pieced together. It's so much easier to look upon the world out there from this place inside. From such a distance, the world and its problems look smaller and less significant.

I sometimes wish to cease living a double life. I want to disappear and live in an illusion. I want to finally reconcile my two selves and make peace with my being. I long to decelerate and lay down to rest.

I feel so wretched and so wrecked. Who would've imagined how stressful it would be? At least for me. Sometimes it seems like I'm the only one undergoing this ordeal, especially when Mom told me that my cousin Amanda(who's in the FASS as well) was present at a relatives gathering I missed last night to stay home and clear the overwhelming work I have. Worst still, I haven't actually cleared my work and just thinking about it crushes me.

But that's not the reason for the misery I feel now. I'm really blessed to have a family that cares for my wellbeing so much. The least I could do is to gratefully accept and appreciate their intentions - yet I always find that they have to bear the brunt of my anxiety and stress in form of temperamental outbursts or even just uninterested curt monosyllabic responses to their attempts at striking a harmless conversation with me. 

I catch myself giving them such undeserving treatment only after they kindly step back to give me space without a word of complaint - and by then it's too late. They just want to help me wherever they can to ease my burden, but I just blow them off all the time. It's such an unbearable feeling and I detest this so much I just want to tear myself apart.

I keep wondering when the end of it will come so that I would stop being so unreasonable. However the road ahead seems so bleak it feels like it will never end.

School work has made me so unstable. I feel the pressure to deliver a good piece of work which stresses me so, yet when I'm away from my computer I can't stop thinking about work and the uneasiness and insecurity makes me so angsty that I always feel this urge to rush back home and continue. It's so unhealthy and I'm only worrying my family even more like this.

When will this all end?

Vengeance

Some days I can barely withstand the tension both around and within me.

The righteous side of me constantly asserts the pacifist in me, desperately want to quell all the fruitless arguments and poisonous sentiments from both sides. I probably saw hope in their salvation.

Yet there exists the underlying ugly, vengeful part of me that has been infected by all the miasma after such a long exposure. It's so subtle, yet it slowly but surely devours me from within. Like an apple that conceals its rotting core.

And I start to consider how I'd exact my revenge in the most subtle way possible which would indirectly yet painfully reflect where they have gone wrong. That this is the very consequence you will suffer. This is what you made me to be.

But when I imagine that revenge, it isn't sweet at all. There is nothing to be gained and I might lose every possibility of happiness and no way to redeem myself.

Some days I can barely withstand the tension both around and within me.

Own Pace?

Source: http://digital-art-gallery.com/picture/2528

I'm slowly but surely getting used to university life. Maybe not that slowly. I find myself thrown into deeper waters at times, and everything starts to accelerate at a dizzying speed leaving me with brains turned to mush from all the anxiety and unnecessary stress. But I guess that's okay - I'm still just trying to find my own pace in this new environment.

I revel in the slow moments of life, when you're able to rest comfortably with your being and make little, seemingly insignificant yet intriguing discoveries about your surroundings.

Moments like when you gaze out of the train windows and find a different scenery despite passing by the same place (and you feel like you're the only one who's noticed because everyone else has their eyes on their smart devices). Have you noticed how trees are in full bloom now?

When you find a word that resonates with you, giving you a sliver of satisfaction as if you've ascertained your identity for a brief moment. Vestige - a trace or remnant of something that is disappearing or no longer exists.

When you find yourself in the midst of kindred spirits giving genuine encouragement to one another, and feel thankful for them.

I've enjoyed myself so much with my university friends recently. Exploring the stalls and doing the bon odori dance with friends from the Japanese Society during 夏祭り last Saturday, having conversations over lunch after seminars with Natasha and Shirley, attending lectures together with Hasini etc. I expected myself to stick with my cousin or friends from previous schools but I'm actually doing well making new friends.

Moments like these.

And then there's the fast-paced part of university life too that still needs some adapting to.

For example just today I had my first tutorial for Japanese Studies, and we had to jump right into forming project groups with people we barely knew after a round of brief self-introduction. Groups were formed roughly based on common topics we were interested in, that could be potentially pursued for the graded project work. I was half regretting my decision to not ballot for the same tutorial slots as my Oweek friends since it seems really difficult to envision work with people you've just met for under an hour.

I joined a group of 4 other guys from FASS  - a fellow Year 1 Lit major potential, a Year 2 Linguistics major and two Year 2/3 Lit majors. I felt slightly at ease knowing there's a fellow freshman in the group, but the intimidation I felt from the seniors was overwhelming at first. They were highly eloquent, focused and learned, and were definitely set on getting an excellent grade for this module to maintain a good CAP.

As we sat in the cafeteria at UTown discussing the foundation of our project research, I struggled to keep up with both the discussion and writing (as the self-appointed scribe who was the only one that had lunch before tutorial) as they poured their ideas and thoughts out. I think I'm a pretty decent English speaker, but these people were on a different level. For the most part, I couldn't help but notice the massive contrast in levels that only highlighted my inexperience and naivety that passion for the subject was sufficient for me to do well in this module.

It's probably overthinking on my part, but the fact that I'm the only female on this group on top of being a freshman seems to reduce my role as an equal, effective contributor to the group. Especially with members that really know what they want and what they're doing, I feel as if it's possible that they may not expect much from me. Oddly, I desperately want to work up to or even exceed their expectations and prove that I am capable of holding up the shared responsibility among us all. I may be wrong and there probably isn't anything to prove, but I really want to match up to the level of my group members, to show my worth.

As I described, I am desperate. Which kinda makes me feel a little stressed as to how I should go about being productive and useful.

Moments like these.

In retrospect, these are just different trials that will add on to my experiences and help me find my suitable pace of life. In the midst of the mix of slow moments to revel in and the chaotic flurry of events, I should strive to stay true and honest to myself and others around me, and absorb every bit of it all regardless bitter or sweet.

Hitting the Books

http://s-is-for-studying.tumblr.com/post/107064352524

It's 1.20 am and I'm doing early preparatory work for my first seminar class next Monday, which makes me start thinking about the idea of studying.

It's probably a shared sentiment among all university undergraduates - that we're all actually pretty excited and pumped up for school. It's been at least 8 months (much longer so for the guys) since we all hit the books, and even just the simple act of manually writing our name on paper feels unfamiliar and strange at the beginning. Time to dust off the rust in our brains and start revving up our mental engines again.

I've always been a procrastinator throughout my uniformed school days - drifting through lectures and tutorials for the first part before cramming my brains with last minute revisions before examinations and tests (and somehow I managed to make it work). So I was actually kinda worried about how I'd fare in university since there're no fixed tutors there to keep close track on your work and give pep talks on how you should organize your time etc etc.

Surprisingly, I'm more motivated about work than I expected myself to be. I'm guessing it's some sort of human psychology, when you realize the absence of the "safety nets" and start becoming a lot more cautious. After all as university students, we are expected to take full ownership of our studies and accept the outcomes of how we spend the resources here. Another factor I attribute my motivation to is probably my interest in the content of the modules I chose (and that means I'm not at all interested nor motivated for that pre-allocated Quantitative Reasoning mod *grumbles*).

For this semester I picked exposure modules for English Language (Linguistics), Sociology and Japanese Studies, and a freshmen seminar on Heroism and Society. I'm pretty pumped up for the lessons (please let this attitude last as long as possible) and I really want to do well for them. It's great that we're given the option to S/U our grades if we don't do well, but I'm hoping that I won't have to use them!

Looking at the timeline for the modules, I find that I don't actually have the leisure of idling my time away since our weeks are planned out with plenty of prep work for presentations and group projects. Class participation is important too, and in order for that to work I believe reading ahead is really important so I have to clear as much work as possible in order to prepare adequately. Yet the content is really fun to grapple with so work doesn't seem as daunting anymore.

I think my greatest worry at the moment is group project. Sure, working in a group does take quite a bit of load off since it's a shared responsibility. However, you'll need to be able to see eye to eye with your mates, trust in and depend on their abilities and contribute as much as you can to earn their trust. It's not an easy feat at all and things could potentially be disastrous. It can't be helped, so I'll just try to keep an optimistic view to the best of my ability.

This is possibly the last stage of formal education, so I want to make the best out of it not just academically, but also in terms of just being able to learn freely as a student and enjoy a discussion with a teacher.

University Kid

The ideal image of a female university student:

She's sociable, knowledgeable, stylish and knows what she wants and what to do. She's the one you turn to when you have no idea what the lecturer is talking about, and she whispers back the answer with an easy smile. She strides the corridors confidently and comfortably in her casual but well-put together get up, occasionally waving to friends passing her way. Ask her what she thinks about a topic, and she starts engaging you in a serious yet exciting discussion. 

Actually, that's the image of my own eldest sister Stella back when she was a university undergrad at NUS FASS herself, and when I was the puny sniffling 8 year-old youngest sister whose world at that time revolved around how Germaine Kong didn't want to be my friend anymore and how abacus homework was such a pain. (I can't remember if Germaine and I did end up friends after all haha)

Fast forward 11 years and I'm now a university undergrad myself at the exact school my sister attended. Years ago I probably thought that by the time I hit 19 I would have my shit together, look as awesome as Stella and be rocking university life like a champion.

Emphasis on "I thought". 

I'm totally not feeling up to all those expectations from before (laughs coldly to myself)! I feel LOST all the time, and every time a saviour (a friend) asks me if I've done or if I'm aware of something, I almost always react with a great, big question mark followed by feelings of dread and horror. While I'm all intimidated by how university life seems to be bearing down on us with a load of information we struggle to make sense of, I feel as if I can get through with my friends helping me out and all.

On that note, I really really need to thank my awesome friends who are always looking out for me. Thank you so, so much! TT^TT 

Which is why I titled this post "University Kid",because essentially I still feel like a kid, lost among the sea of real adults. In fact, I would gladly do my abacus homework now without any complaints. Pfft.

I've been in a real deep slump lately, which is not hard to tell judging from the previous few depressing posts. It took a friend whom I met during the Arts O week camp to reach out and help me snap out of it. I guess I was too self-absorbed, wallowing in my own sorry pit foolishly expecting things to get better just by waiting.

It's ironic. I wrote a post (You're No Tragic Hero, June 2014) once long ago saying something about how much I hated people wallowing in self-pity and not actually using that energy to change their situation. Now I'm the very example of what I disapproved before. And I'm not going to take that standing down - I can't have my very own self be what I hate, can I?

So from now onwards, I'm going to push myself again with a new resolve. I can't let anyone catch me in such a sorry state anymore. It's going to be real tough since I've tried stepping out of my comfort zone before (and look at how quickly I snapped right back into it) but with shortlived success.

Here's to the start of university life, and the start of a new me :)

"I'm doing it all wrong."

I've been feeling and thinking this a lot recently and it's not a good feeling at all, to not be able to get my shit together. I'm losing control again.

There's never a restart button no matter how much you wish for it. I can only cope with an illusion of one - isolation. Erase everyone and everything off my surroundings, pretend nothing happened and suck my thumb in a corner like the fucking coward that I am. I'm so mad at everything and nothing.

Why is it so hard to belong somewhere? All I've done is just run away from people. I feel like I can't stay in one place for too many reasons that are ultimately excuses I refuse to admit. 

Everywhere I go, I try to please everyone. But in doing so I have lost my identity. I try too hard to be things that I'm not. It'll probably be better if people bought those lies but they aren't stupid. I'm sure they can see through this facade and see what a huge impostor I am. People don't want to associate with fakes.

I wonder when I'll stop running, or when someone who is strong enough or cares enough would stop me from escaping. It's so tiring. So tiring. And so lonely.

I'm just too afraid of getting expectations up and then facing disappointment. I'm just too afraid of commitment. I'm just too afraid of being disliked. I'm just a coward that acts strong. 

And so what if I'm aware of what I am? The frustrating part is I don't know how to solve myself. People don't like problems. And I don't like to burden others. I'm just a passing phase for people I meet. Like a roadside tree.

KANA-BOON

Small discoveries can do a surprising lot of improvement to your mood, if you haven't already noticed in your daily life. And a great example would be finding a band you like, going all "YEAH this is my jam!" as you rock an invisible guitar to their songs on earphones when no one's looking (I'm not the only one who does this, right?).

Introducing to you - KANA-BOON!

As with almost 90% of the Japanese artistes and bands I listen to, I discovered KANA-BOON through anisongs (anime songs). The band sang one of the best openings of one of the best animes ever - Silhouette (Opening 16) from Naruto Shippuden, and they're performing the theme song for Boruto: Naruto the Movie as well! 

Sadly, YouTube restricts almost all of their music videos from being shown elsewhere other than Japan, hence not a lot of people know of the other awesome songs they have written and performed. The only MV of theirs on YouTube is ないものねだり (Naimono nedari, trans: Asking for the Moon) and more recently, 'Diver', the theme song for Boruto.

But fret not! I HAVE FOUND A WAY TO WATCH THEIR MUSIC VIDEOS. Apparently you can view them and many other Japanese musicians on JPopsuki TV without much hassle at all! Words can't describe my excitement and elation when I found the videos and watched them again and again *cries*

KANA-BOON's songs have a hint of indie in them, hence their music compositions are really unique and catchy. Combined with the lyrics written by them and the clear, empowering vocals of frontman Taniguchi Maguro (Maguro is literally 'tuna' for those unfamiliar with Japanese), the songs pack a punch. 

The members are also great to watch during both their performances and off-stage times. They immerse themselves in the song as they play, which makes you want to go air-guitar just to feel the groove - everyone has a great time enjoying the song. The members also have great chemistry with each other (definitely crucial in forming a band), fooling around and having lots of fun. 

I really really wish I could watch them perform live! However I don't think they'd come to Singapore any time soon so I should plan a trip to catch them live in Japan at least once in my life!

Anyway here's ending off with ないものねだり by KANA-BOON!

ノスタルジア nostalgia

か細い声で語る　私の話を聞いて

Listen to my feeble voice’s story

無理に強がるわけじゃないけど　あんな風にもう泣かないから

I’m not pretending to be strong but I won’t cry like that again

少しずつずれていく　二人の歩幅がつらい

It’s hard to watch our steps slowly go out of line

雨音にさえ　不意に怯えて　はぐれてく二つの傘

Even the sound of rain frightens me as our two umbrellas part.

- Nostalgia by Ikimono Gakari

When I think of the word 'nostalgia', I always have a mental image of an old solitary tree in autumn. I couldn't find a photo on the internet that best depicted that image so I went with one of the beautiful works of Makoto Shinkai.

Nostalgia always looked and felt that way to me. Something you would experience on your own when you have aged and seen the world around you move and morph just like how a tree would watch its surroundings change from its perspective - that is, if trees had feelings like us. You could reminisce the past with friends but we all see and remember different things through those rose-tinted glasses. And autumn, because I associate nostalgia with the feelings of melancholy and longing in my heart when I watch the autumn leaves around me tremble and fall silently to the ground, painting a carpet of red, orange and yellow. Probably because autumn is my favourite season too.

Yesterday evening, I met up with my best friend from secondary 2. Natalie and I didn't meet up or have a proper conversation since we graduated from secondary school, yet those couple or so years didn't reflect any awkwardness in our encounter last evening. 

In fact, I was happy to see her again. We spent the few hours at Carpenter and Cook's over croissants, tarts and coffee talking about the past, about our ambitions, our experiences. Sincerity, honesty - these were what I needed and what I got from yesterday's meet up. I had been so tired emotionally for a long time because of life's superficiality.

There's a new hope in me that I could change for the better. I'm really so thankful that I could meet up with Natalie again.

In the spirit of nostalgia, I opened up my diary today, which had already accumulated a layer of dust. It's been a long time since I wrote in those pages. Reading the past events that happened and I had forgotten made me smile, laugh and even pause to recover from sheer embarrassment. Those days were so precious now that I'm looking back from the present. I wish I could meet me from back then and just talk to her. 

Actually it's kind of embarrassing, but 80% of my entries recorded in junior college are about that certain senpai and my thoughts and feelings about him - whom I've never even had a proper conversation with! To show you what's real embarrassing, let me read to you (or write out) two extracts from an entry in my diary:

"We had eye contact but I turned away too fast! Qlo*, I'm such an idiot. I finally had guts enough to add him on FB, so technically I'm supposed to be a FRIEND but WHY CAN'T I DO SOMETHING AS BASIC AS SAYING HI! WHYYY."

"Then today I saw him in the canteen. We made eye contact BUT HE TURNED AWAY. The damage has been done Qlo, I'm now perceived as a cold, unfriendly fat bitch by the one I go crazy for. For sure."

*Qlo is the name I gave to my diary which is a notebook from Uniqlo.

It's embarrassing and mortifying to know that I had thoughts like these back in my school girl days - yet it's something I'm oddly proud of (please don't start viewing me as a creep) because it just goes to show how eventful my school days were. It would be something I would have a good laugh about with friends at reunions(like what I'm doing now, sharing these extracts online because it's all harmless memories now), part of stories I would tell my children or grandchildren if I ever have any in future, or just something to laugh to myself about in my old age, allowing me to relive those days of youth again.

Nostalgia would sometimes lead me to feel gratitude to those who walked with me part way in my journey of life, regardless good or bad memories made. So thank you Natalie, for those times in secondary school and for more to come. Thank you senpai, for being the poor target of my admiration and being a huge part in my JC life even though we don't know each other well. 

Will I get to thank everyone? And have I made an impact on other people's lives to gain gratitude for?

I wish I could love myself more.

Space for None More

Wants

Beyond all this, the wish to be alone:

However the sky grows dark with invitation-cards

However we follow the printed directions of sex

However the family is photographed under the flagstaff - 

Beyond all this, the wish to be alone.

Beneath it all, desire of oblivion runs:

Despite the artful tensions of the calendar,

The life insurance, the tabled fertility rites,

The costly aversion of the eyes from death - 

Beneath it all, the desire of oblivion runs.

- Philip Larkin 

I studied this poem and prepared to use it for my A Level Literature paper during junior college - reading all the analysis materials and model essays, internalizing all of it for the purpose of being able to have the ink from my pen flow unrestrained on those blank foolscap papers. In that sense, I probably never fully appreciated Larkin's work until this moment, as his words resonate with my own feelings now.

It's not that I've never experienced the sudden, unexplained urge to break free from all social contact and isolate myself till now. While lying on my bed staring at the ceiling and identifying the return of this phase of melancholy (like the unannounced return of an old friend whom you're not too pleased to welcome back), Larkin's poem somehow surfaced in my thoughts. I got up and picked out my old Lit text from the shelf, flipping to 'Wants'. 

It's slightly relieving to be able to read words that embody feelings you don't necessarily have the vocabulary to convey - as if you're a step closer to possibly finding the answer or the remedy to this condition. But I don't think even Larkin ever got the answer up till the day he breathed his last. 

My soul is restless.

At this point, a part of me wants to shut away from the world and escape reality (the costly aversion of the eyes), and another is tempted to lose control, go mad and make everyone leave. Either way I don't feel like engaging in any form of serious interaction now. What I do want to do is to travel alone to see beautiful sceneries like the ones in the photos of this post. I could just sit all day and watch the noiseless splendor of Earth. 

This, as I mentioned, is probably just a temporary passing phase of melancholy. Like those dreadful lady days (periods) women endure every month even. 

However one thing has never changed through the tumultuous ups and downs of my feelings and emotions. I am still not ready to share my life with a significant other. At nineteen this year it's probably still too early to say. But in a blink of an eye I will find myself in my late twenties attending weddings and baby showers of friends I grew up with or attended school with, feeling societal pressure to get hitched myself and contribute to the next generation. 

I've seen how my sisters move from adolescence into the next stages of life -  now one of them is a mother while another is going to be a wife in October. Friends and acquaintances around me are all getting attached and engaging in intimate activities with their partners. I expected myself to feel envious and develop a desire to start my own romance, but it still turns out that amidst the whole dizzy, passion-filled atmosphere, I am not ready to commit to another being.

I do feel curious about what it's like to be in love with someone. I listen intently to the love stories of my attached friends. I observe their expressions and smiles as they talk bashfully about their loved ones. I feel happy and excited for them. But it never made me develop an appetite for any of that exhilaration. The most I've done is probably imagine how my relationship would be like (and honestly it never turns out interesting at all haha). 

But I don't like the idea of being bound to someone. I won't think that way once I fall head over heels with someone I guess. It's just that right now I look at the people around me and I feel indifferent. If 'The One' whom I am fated to be together with indeed exists, then I probably haven't met or noticed that person yet. If there's no such thing as being destined to meet that special person, then I have no expectations at all. 

Committing to another person means being responsible for the feelings of that person, and entrusting your feelings to them. It's a huge responsibility, where you could potentially break a person, a huge risk where you could break yourself. 

In all things I do, I've found that I take responsibility for my work and my actions most of the time. I detest irresponsible people. The way I see it, going into a relationship now is like voluntarily giving up the freedom to escape from reality on my own since my high regard for responsibility would lock myself down. 

If going into a relationship means losing the means to keep my sanity and allowing for potential hurt, I'd rather live the rest of my existence alone. I pride myself for finally being able to be in control of my feelings and thoughts. But losing my freedom means losing control, and just the thought of being irrational like a beastly, animalistic human being, worse than we all already are...it's unbearable.

There's no space now. Nobody can even come close or I'll move or chase them away. You'll wait? Don't waste your time. I'm waiting for myself too.