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.