It seems strange, inappropriate, even, to pen reflections for the year when December isn't even upon us. It may be the fact that I procrastinated posting 2007 reflections until it became redundant. It may be the fact that NIE has turned me into a mirror (whose raison d'etre is to reflect). Who knows, and who cares.
I suspect that the hours I will have to spend waiting for planes and... well, mostly planes... will give me more time to reflect and hopefully write things down instead of just engaging in solitary monologue with myself.
Someone asked me of this year, and of NIE, whether I had made any "lifelong friends". I don't remember who asked the question but it has been ringing in my mind ever since. I shan't break into a tirade about my feelings about NIE here and now. Suffice to say, the best thing about it is the lovely green that abounds. The view from Block 3 always calms me and the view from 199 as it enters the campus too. That, and I really loved Meranti as well. :) That being said, I think I have made a couple of good friends this year. And by that, I mean possibly two.
There is a change in me, and no, it's not just the hair. I've been exhibiting anti-social behaviour. And by this, I mean I have become lazy. I retracted myself in participating in the charade of civility, choosing rather to revel in solitude. Where people annoy me, I am more inclined to tell them off. While this has tended to repel people from me, I find myself appreciating my good friends more. In a way, it presents a harsh reality: the people who love you or accept you for who you are. I think I love my friends more and more with each passing day. And this year I've learnt so much about it.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Avenue You
Yay, I'm so excited I'm watching Avenue Q again today. I have to say, I never thought it would come to Singapore, with its ever overzealous censors.
Come on, with songs like
"It Sucks to be Me"
I'm going to write my own version soon. Let's see...
When I was little, I thought I would be
A big time bank exec at POSB
But now at NIE, I guess you can see
I'm not.
Nope.
Oh well.
It sucks to be me.
It sucks to be me.
It sucks to be broke, retrenched and then have to be
Working for ministry.
"Everyone's a little bit Racist"
Theme song of the next Racial Harmony Day?
"If You Were Gay"
Repeal 377? haha!
I swear, a Singapore version of Avenue Q would be hilarious. We should write it.
Come on, with songs like
"It Sucks to be Me"
I'm going to write my own version soon. Let's see...
When I was little, I thought I would be
A big time bank exec at POSB
But now at NIE, I guess you can see
I'm not.
Nope.
Oh well.
It sucks to be me.
It sucks to be me.
It sucks to be broke, retrenched and then have to be
Working for ministry.
"Everyone's a little bit Racist"
Theme song of the next Racial Harmony Day?
"If You Were Gay"
Repeal 377? haha!
I swear, a Singapore version of Avenue Q would be hilarious. We should write it.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
<3
I'm abashed.
I think I've been taking some of my friends for granted. sigh. There are a group of people who have always been wonderful to me. I'm awfully fond of them, regardless of their shenanigans. :O) There is much that I feel that I can't really express. I tried, but I couldn't. I will try again soon when it is not 3.30 am.
Tonight was a great night. A night filled with mirth, comedy and love. Lots of love in lots of layers.
It was the jolt I needed to get out of this funk I'm in. I'm focusing on the wrong people. haha.
Interestingly, I started my night at the Hyatt hotel. I ended it at Orchard Towers, amidst tarts and eclairs. And reeking of smoke and beer.
I think I've been taking some of my friends for granted. sigh. There are a group of people who have always been wonderful to me. I'm awfully fond of them, regardless of their shenanigans. :O) There is much that I feel that I can't really express. I tried, but I couldn't. I will try again soon when it is not 3.30 am.
Tonight was a great night. A night filled with mirth, comedy and love. Lots of love in lots of layers.
It was the jolt I needed to get out of this funk I'm in. I'm focusing on the wrong people. haha.
Interestingly, I started my night at the Hyatt hotel. I ended it at Orchard Towers, amidst tarts and eclairs. And reeking of smoke and beer.
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
fuck empathy. save yourself.
Once upon a time, it used to be
Can I see another's woe
and not be in sorrow too?
Can I see another's grief
And not seek for kind relief?
Can I see a falling tear
And not feel my sorrow's share?
Blah.blah.blah.
And in one fell swoop, it suddenly became
Pity would be no more
If we did not make somebody poor
And Mercy no more could be
If all were as happy as we.
It's uncanny (and somewhat disturbing) how in the blink of an eye, I can embody all the different aspects of the Songs of Experience. Everything we lamented and critiqued about the world, manifested itself into physicality and entered my being. I have become the epitome of all I once abhorred.
"You're just jaded."
I'm tired. Sick and tired and just full of fatigue. I don't want to hear it anymore. Carrying other people's burden has now become physically painful. "Rationalisation is the essence of evil." "Anger is the hallmark of a healthy mind." All the quips and quotes I once expelled like a vending machine on crack. I can't take it anymore. Seriously. I'm only human. Empathy is a double edged sword.
I can sit there and listen to you whine and moan and lament and be bitter about the world. You can sit there and ask me what to do, what I think and I can (and I have) done all that I thought you needed. I have sat there in silence with you. I have sat across from you and listened. I have listened to you express your disdain for what they have done to you while thinking about how it was identical to what you did to me all those years ago. I have listened on the phone. I have held you tight. I have sat with you in the dark. And when you needed me to, I have told you what I think. I have told you what I would do in your situation, what I thought was the best cause of action. Because I love you and I want to see you happy. Don't you know that I share your pain?
The bloody cliche is that a sorrow shared is a sorrow halved. And laws of physics states that energy cannot be created nor destroyed. Where do you think it goes?
There is only so much I can take. And I am not a machine. There is only so much I can do. And after so many years, I think I'm running out of gas.
Whatever it was that was sustaining this, it's exhausted.
Somehow I have just ceased to give a shit.
And the unfortunate thing is that it's spreading like a disease coursing through my veins. It's spread. It's not just you anymore. I always said, indifference is worse that hatred. Indifference means you no longer care.
Dear you,
I no longer care.
I hereby withdraw my membership to your life.
Yours sincerely.
Can I see another's woe
and not be in sorrow too?
Can I see another's grief
And not seek for kind relief?
Can I see a falling tear
And not feel my sorrow's share?
Blah.blah.blah.
And in one fell swoop, it suddenly became
Pity would be no more
If we did not make somebody poor
And Mercy no more could be
If all were as happy as we.
It's uncanny (and somewhat disturbing) how in the blink of an eye, I can embody all the different aspects of the Songs of Experience. Everything we lamented and critiqued about the world, manifested itself into physicality and entered my being. I have become the epitome of all I once abhorred.
"You're just jaded."
I'm tired. Sick and tired and just full of fatigue. I don't want to hear it anymore. Carrying other people's burden has now become physically painful. "Rationalisation is the essence of evil." "Anger is the hallmark of a healthy mind." All the quips and quotes I once expelled like a vending machine on crack. I can't take it anymore. Seriously. I'm only human. Empathy is a double edged sword.
I can sit there and listen to you whine and moan and lament and be bitter about the world. You can sit there and ask me what to do, what I think and I can (and I have) done all that I thought you needed. I have sat there in silence with you. I have sat across from you and listened. I have listened to you express your disdain for what they have done to you while thinking about how it was identical to what you did to me all those years ago. I have listened on the phone. I have held you tight. I have sat with you in the dark. And when you needed me to, I have told you what I think. I have told you what I would do in your situation, what I thought was the best cause of action. Because I love you and I want to see you happy. Don't you know that I share your pain?
The bloody cliche is that a sorrow shared is a sorrow halved. And laws of physics states that energy cannot be created nor destroyed. Where do you think it goes?
There is only so much I can take. And I am not a machine. There is only so much I can do. And after so many years, I think I'm running out of gas.
Whatever it was that was sustaining this, it's exhausted.
Somehow I have just ceased to give a shit.
And the unfortunate thing is that it's spreading like a disease coursing through my veins. It's spread. It's not just you anymore. I always said, indifference is worse that hatred. Indifference means you no longer care.
Dear you,
I no longer care.
I hereby withdraw my membership to your life.
Yours sincerely.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Wake Me Up When September Ends
I have spent September in a daze. Imagine the whirlwind of a Tazmanian Devil (the Looney Tunes one, not the actual animal)... and when it stops, the world spins. It's like that.
I don't feel great. Not just physically, either.
I feel like I've lost an essential part of myself. That it may have eroded away, leaving nothing but a memory, a whisper of a memory.
"Who are you, my lord?"
"Lear (Yati)'s shadow."
I found an old Blake essay some days ago, and it reminded me. It reminded me of who I used to be and who I wanted to be.
x
On the brighter side of life, I'm glad the Raya spirit caught up with me. I was starting to panic when the last day of Ramadhan came and I hadn't bought my baju kurung, hadn't cleaned my room, was fretting about social context and stakeholders of education... but it all came into place, even the spirit.
:)
Traditions in place.
x
There are so many things on my plate, on my head. And not even all of them mine.
In this instant I am reminded of Robert Frost.
I don't feel great. Not just physically, either.
I feel like I've lost an essential part of myself. That it may have eroded away, leaving nothing but a memory, a whisper of a memory.
"Who are you, my lord?"
"Lear (Yati)'s shadow."
I found an old Blake essay some days ago, and it reminded me. It reminded me of who I used to be and who I wanted to be.
x
On the brighter side of life, I'm glad the Raya spirit caught up with me. I was starting to panic when the last day of Ramadhan came and I hadn't bought my baju kurung, hadn't cleaned my room, was fretting about social context and stakeholders of education... but it all came into place, even the spirit.
:)
Traditions in place.
x
There are so many things on my plate, on my head. And not even all of them mine.
In this instant I am reminded of Robert Frost.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
escapism is essential
Forgetting Sarah Marshall
Funniest thing everrrr!!!!
"die. Die. DIE. I CAN'T!"
Dracula Musical! hahahahahahaaaaaaa
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Sometimes it's better to just walk away
The best thing about depression is sometimes the clarity that comes like after a rainstorm clears the haze. The truly essential things emerge, albeit invisible. The elusive balm of the soul transcends distance and shoots from heart to heart, like a travelling hug at supersonic speed. It's the strength of a friendship, and a testament to the power of technology.
That's how you know that the hours you spent, the energy you invested and the emotions you so unwittingly put at stake - that's how you know they were not in vain, that it wasn't a total waste of time.
And the distance that you feared, that you perhaps now even resent, that physical distance is only there to make sure you never take any of it for granted.
Distance is a funny, funny thing. Sometimes the people closest to you in terms of proximity can be so unreachable, so ... distant (in all terms of the word) and yet the people on opposite ends of the world can feel so close.
{{{i heart u muchly}}}
That's how you know that the hours you spent, the energy you invested and the emotions you so unwittingly put at stake - that's how you know they were not in vain, that it wasn't a total waste of time.
And the distance that you feared, that you perhaps now even resent, that physical distance is only there to make sure you never take any of it for granted.
Distance is a funny, funny thing. Sometimes the people closest to you in terms of proximity can be so unreachable, so ... distant (in all terms of the word) and yet the people on opposite ends of the world can feel so close.
{{{i heart u muchly}}}
Monday, September 01, 2008
rite of passage
well.
practicame-and-went.
c'est fini. it's over.
(but it's just the beginning.)
Over the past two weeks, I have had much to say. I've hashed it out in my mind, had long conversations with the voices in my head. But catharsis doesn't happen until words flow through the fingers to see light on paper, on screen - until it becomes tangible. So the next few posts will all be related even if seemingly random.
The past ten weeks have really been a roller coaster. It's such a cliche, but I've only just been able to see the big picture. This is no time for regrets, but for learning and reflection. It wasn't until the end that I saw what I should have seen from the beginning, which was: it should be about them. Have that in mind, and everything else will follow. It disappoints me that I wasn't able to manifest that although at the back of my head, I knew it. I didn't start to love them until towards the end. But the truth is, I did start to love them, and I let them know it. And the response I got was both touching and overwhelming. So much for keeping at arm's length.
We talked about it at Meranti. Care is the central concern. We talked about how they knew. We talked. That is the point - we talked. One thing (one of a plethora of things) I learnt is that in this business, it is more important to do. Intelligence is important, but the truth is, it's not essential. It's all in the delivery, in the transmission, the communication. What is it that you leave them with? A working knowledge of what poetry and prose is? Or a desire to find out more, borne out of an experience of the joys of literature? It's not about you. You are just the vessel. It's all about them.
I wish I could have done more. The truth is, I lost sight of why I was in it. What my motivations were, what I wanted. I didn't see it. The technicality of it all - the obsession with technical SIOs and their terminology, the texts, the incessant planning coupled with the exhaustion and seemingly routine monotony - they were my shackles. I was rarely myself, with them I had to put on a persona. And too late, I realised, that worked against me.
But never mind that. It's something that became clearer as Week 10 approached. Life is about making mistakes and learning from them. Over the past 12 years of my life, I realise that is the best way I learn. The pain keeps the lesson fresh.
:)
Passion, love and care.
These things need time, and some people need more time than others.
Once they blossom, they're hard to push back to the ground.
Thank god I see it now.
Perhaps the past 10 weeks was a time of liminality. We are not the same people we were 10 weeks ago.
We're better.
We are all Meranti seeds which grow into Meranti trees; bearing our own seeds.
practicame-and-went.
c'est fini. it's over.
(but it's just the beginning.)
Over the past two weeks, I have had much to say. I've hashed it out in my mind, had long conversations with the voices in my head. But catharsis doesn't happen until words flow through the fingers to see light on paper, on screen - until it becomes tangible. So the next few posts will all be related even if seemingly random.
The past ten weeks have really been a roller coaster. It's such a cliche, but I've only just been able to see the big picture. This is no time for regrets, but for learning and reflection. It wasn't until the end that I saw what I should have seen from the beginning, which was: it should be about them. Have that in mind, and everything else will follow. It disappoints me that I wasn't able to manifest that although at the back of my head, I knew it. I didn't start to love them until towards the end. But the truth is, I did start to love them, and I let them know it. And the response I got was both touching and overwhelming. So much for keeping at arm's length.
We talked about it at Meranti. Care is the central concern. We talked about how they knew. We talked. That is the point - we talked. One thing (one of a plethora of things) I learnt is that in this business, it is more important to do. Intelligence is important, but the truth is, it's not essential. It's all in the delivery, in the transmission, the communication. What is it that you leave them with? A working knowledge of what poetry and prose is? Or a desire to find out more, borne out of an experience of the joys of literature? It's not about you. You are just the vessel. It's all about them.
I wish I could have done more. The truth is, I lost sight of why I was in it. What my motivations were, what I wanted. I didn't see it. The technicality of it all - the obsession with technical SIOs and their terminology, the texts, the incessant planning coupled with the exhaustion and seemingly routine monotony - they were my shackles. I was rarely myself, with them I had to put on a persona. And too late, I realised, that worked against me.
But never mind that. It's something that became clearer as Week 10 approached. Life is about making mistakes and learning from them. Over the past 12 years of my life, I realise that is the best way I learn. The pain keeps the lesson fresh.
:)
Passion, love and care.
These things need time, and some people need more time than others.
Once they blossom, they're hard to push back to the ground.
Thank god I see it now.
Perhaps the past 10 weeks was a time of liminality. We are not the same people we were 10 weeks ago.
We're better.
We are all Meranti seeds which grow into Meranti trees; bearing our own seeds.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
crowd control - stay at home.
A molecule in an ocean of people.
I'm not sure whether it was the Fireworks show, the fact that I have been cocooned in lovely not-too-crowded heartlands or a combination of factors, but City Hall on Friday was just plain madness. Coming out of the train station, I just wanted to turn back, go home and hide under my covers where it was safe. Against better judgement however, I braced the crowd, letting them consume me, jostle me and violate my personal space.
It was the coop during the first week of school: "I got banged again."
Hordes of people, just spilling out of buildings.
Why do people subject themselves to this? In that moment, prior fantasies about marrying a farmer in New Zealand and rearing cows and sheep on mountains came rushing back. La Moine Point's tranquility flashed in my mind's eye. I thought about WalMart and its wide accommodating aisles. Lake Ontario in summer. ahhhhh. Happy thoughts. I flashbacked to my first Canadian Odyssey epiphany - the one about people living amongst nature and away from Man being less inclined to insanity. I can think of a million places I would rather be.
I'm not sure whether it was the Fireworks show, the fact that I have been cocooned in lovely not-too-crowded heartlands or a combination of factors, but City Hall on Friday was just plain madness. Coming out of the train station, I just wanted to turn back, go home and hide under my covers where it was safe. Against better judgement however, I braced the crowd, letting them consume me, jostle me and violate my personal space.
It was the coop during the first week of school: "I got banged again."
Hordes of people, just spilling out of buildings.
Why do people subject themselves to this? In that moment, prior fantasies about marrying a farmer in New Zealand and rearing cows and sheep on mountains came rushing back. La Moine Point's tranquility flashed in my mind's eye. I thought about WalMart and its wide accommodating aisles. Lake Ontario in summer. ahhhhh. Happy thoughts. I flashbacked to my first Canadian Odyssey epiphany - the one about people living amongst nature and away from Man being less inclined to insanity. I can think of a million places I would rather be.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
I am tired
I feel myself being anxious and disconcerted a lot these days. "She smiled a smile that never reached her eyes." That line keeps playing in my mind as I go about my day. I never thought it would happen to me. I thought the world of experience had been transcended! I was so wrong. sigh. I was talking to Shangy a couple of days ago and he said, in relation to work, "Leave your soul at home."
The idealist in me protested. In this job, you can't not bring your soul to the job. You might as well be an automaton otherwise. But then again, there are aspects of - perhaps not this vocation exclusively, but the rules of employment and general interaction as a whole, which siphons all the spirit out of you. Rules of engagement, politics, basic rules of civility? You can't be an idealist if you want to survive. I'm grasping at air with all my Blakean ideals which truth be told, have been eroding over the years anyway.
On the bright side, I am quite thankful to have a pretty supportive network of people who help me get through the days. Honestly, I'm not sure what I would do without them. Probably talk to imaginary people.
...
Talking about something else altogether now, you know, when you're stuck in a hapless infatuation for 8 years, you make yourself comfortable. Regardless of the pain of rejection (whether implied or direct), the unrequitedness, the battles with the self-esteem monsters, one thing you're sure of is that you know where you're at. If you're resentful, you know why. The feelings are so deep-rooted that you know what they are. It's not unfamiliar. Even if it's unpleasant, it's .... well, it's a part of you.
But when you've cast that aside, when you've gotten your closure and you're ready to face the world again (so to speak). It's like ... trying to walk again after spending 8 years in a wheelchair. It's the stumbing, the anxiety, the what-is-this-feeling-and-why-the-hell-am-i-feeling-it emotional rollercoaster. It's ill-timed. God knows I'm getting too old for this.
In the Disney movie Hercules, the ingenue, Meg, sings a song.
It begins with "If there's a prize for rotten judgement, I guess I've already won that/No man is worth the aggravation, that's ancient history/Been there, done that..."
Then it continues:
"Who'd you think you're kidding/He's the earth and heaven to ya/Try and keep it hidden/something about you got it baaaad"
Lalalala.
Seriously.
Someone needs to invent an emotion switch. Just so you can sort of postpone having to deal with any emotions.
The idealist in me protested. In this job, you can't not bring your soul to the job. You might as well be an automaton otherwise. But then again, there are aspects of - perhaps not this vocation exclusively, but the rules of employment and general interaction as a whole, which siphons all the spirit out of you. Rules of engagement, politics, basic rules of civility? You can't be an idealist if you want to survive. I'm grasping at air with all my Blakean ideals which truth be told, have been eroding over the years anyway.
On the bright side, I am quite thankful to have a pretty supportive network of people who help me get through the days. Honestly, I'm not sure what I would do without them. Probably talk to imaginary people.
...
Talking about something else altogether now, you know, when you're stuck in a hapless infatuation for 8 years, you make yourself comfortable. Regardless of the pain of rejection (whether implied or direct), the unrequitedness, the battles with the self-esteem monsters, one thing you're sure of is that you know where you're at. If you're resentful, you know why. The feelings are so deep-rooted that you know what they are. It's not unfamiliar. Even if it's unpleasant, it's .... well, it's a part of you.
But when you've cast that aside, when you've gotten your closure and you're ready to face the world again (so to speak). It's like ... trying to walk again after spending 8 years in a wheelchair. It's the stumbing, the anxiety, the what-is-this-feeling-and-why-the-hell-am-i-feeling-it emotional rollercoaster. It's ill-timed. God knows I'm getting too old for this.
In the Disney movie Hercules, the ingenue, Meg, sings a song.
It begins with "If there's a prize for rotten judgement, I guess I've already won that/No man is worth the aggravation, that's ancient history/Been there, done that..."
Then it continues:
"Who'd you think you're kidding/He's the earth and heaven to ya/Try and keep it hidden/something about you got it baaaad"
Lalalala.
Seriously.
Someone needs to invent an emotion switch. Just so you can sort of postpone having to deal with any emotions.
Monday, August 11, 2008
stupid head.
AAAAAAAAAAAARGHHHHHHHHHHH!
I despise feeling this way. It's like there's something nibbling away on my insides, just gnawing away... chompchompchomp. It's just a certain uneasiness that doesn't allow me to rest my mind. It's passive aggresive stress. Something nagging at the back of my mind, ugh.
Goodness.
Maybe I really do need a certified shrink.
I despise feeling this way. It's like there's something nibbling away on my insides, just gnawing away... chompchompchomp. It's just a certain uneasiness that doesn't allow me to rest my mind. It's passive aggresive stress. Something nagging at the back of my mind, ugh.
Goodness.
Maybe I really do need a certified shrink.
The perils of dependence and complacency.
"No one should get themselves used to anything, Eduard. Look at me, I was beginning to enjoy the sun again, the mountain, even life's problems, I was beginning to accept that the meaninglessness of life was no one's fault but mine. I wanted to .... feel hatred and love, despair and tedium, all those simple and foolish things that make up everyday life, but which give pleasure to your existence...."
- Veronika Decides to Die
- Veronika Decides to Die
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Saturday, August 09, 2008
Keeping sunshine in my heart.
It's only been a little more than a month and yet it seems as though years have passed since Canada/London happened. sigh. I honestly don't remember ever feeling that carefree. haha! Oh, if only I had known... I need another vacation like that now. The trip was so many levels of wonderful that I honestly don't think words will do it justice. However, I'm going to write about it.
Unfortunately, Procrastination is once more rearing its ugly head and I must again succumb to its will.
Sunday, August 03, 2008
encore.
I found this particular post I wrote - what - two years ago? And goodness, its sentiments still ring true today. Spooky.
Ever wonder if your life (or why) is lived out in leitmotifs?
I do.
yatz (yatzerooni) wrote,@ 2006-02-08 23:53:00
it's all relative.This week has been incredibly surreal. It's true what they say - regardless of how bad you think things are going for you, there is always somebody who's having an even worse time. Compared to recent events, my problems are puny and petty. Still, it has stimulated thought and reflection in one who rarely thinks.
Disasters like 9/11 and the tsunami are grandscale disasters. You know a bad thing happened, and you feel sorry for them, but they're a distant reality. When someone closer to home, someone you care about encounters a terrible loss, your reality gets shaken. You take stock of the people in your life and evaluate your relationships with them. What would you regret if they were to be gone tomorrow? And if you knew you'd never see them again - ever - what would you do? What would you say to them? Would you still waste your time on people you don't care about? Life is fragile.
This is not a proper time to bring up my new obsession with Grey's Anatomy, but this week's episode began with her questioning why people procrastinate doing something... and amounted it to fear, until it becomes akin to carrying around a 60 pound tumour everywhere you go. You don't go to the doctor when you find strange pus-filled bumps all over your body. You wait to see if it goes it away. You PRAY that it goes away. You're scared of what it might be. It could be cancer. Or it could be a skin infection. One thing about knowing you're going to expire is that there's nothing left to fear. People talk all the time about seizing the day. We should start doing it. But that's the idealist in me talking.
In reality, I don't think people really want you to declare your feelings for them. Whatever they may be. If I were to solemnly stop one day in the middle of my mee pok dry, look up at my lunch companion, look at them straight in the eye and tell them that I love them, appreciate their presence in my life and would be a mere fraction of the person I am today without them, I think they would get very uneasy. It's a notion saved for birthday cards and light moments in a "love ya, babe" sentiment. Or it's something you show in other little ways. It's all in interpretation - Clifford Geertz's notion of a wink and twitch.
Contrary to what people think of me, and strangely, contrary to the way I perceive myself also, I am terrible with showing emotion. Or with sharing my feelings. I always speak of them in a third-party way. I am socially awkward. I avoid things with standard expectations of social graces because I'm afraid I'll make a terrible faux pas. Which I tend to do. So I get stiff. I stay silent. I smile. I hold back my tears to the best of my ability. I never know what to say. This social shortcoming, I only acknowledged today.
There are times when I want so much to just grab a person and hold them. Or be held. I feel that's one of life's greatest comforts - a good embrace. And that's the best I can offer. When it comes to saying things, I'm stumped. People say I wear my heart on my sleeve. I don't usually have to say anything, the way I feel about someone is often plastered on my forehead. Usually. Last night, my 'rift' and issues with former alliances came in question. Someone called me on it. At least I am civil to them now, but I don't bother being warm. I didn't expect to be called on it. What's going on in my life right now is that a piece of my history is being revised, edited. Second/Third/Fourth Edition. The thing with history is that you don't want your stupidity to repeat itself. You make mistakes to repeat them, and then learn from the scars. You don't want to regress. But times have changed, and you know who you are and what you want (maybe). What is it you want to know? It's something deeply entrenched in emotion. Something you don't want to drown in. But something you're irrevocably drawn towards.
Proceed with Caution.There is no Lifetime Guarantee on friendships. It's a living, thriving thing which you can quell with unconscious cruelty, neglect with time or nurture with mutual effort. It can fade away, it can expire. It can break, and it can be put together. I've learnt so much this week, and it's only Wednesday.One thing I can say about this -It forces you to mature, whether you're ready for it or not.But don't worry. You're not alone.
Ever wonder if your life (or why) is lived out in leitmotifs?
I do.
yatz (yatzerooni) wrote,@ 2006-02-08 23:53:00
it's all relative.This week has been incredibly surreal. It's true what they say - regardless of how bad you think things are going for you, there is always somebody who's having an even worse time. Compared to recent events, my problems are puny and petty. Still, it has stimulated thought and reflection in one who rarely thinks.
Disasters like 9/11 and the tsunami are grandscale disasters. You know a bad thing happened, and you feel sorry for them, but they're a distant reality. When someone closer to home, someone you care about encounters a terrible loss, your reality gets shaken. You take stock of the people in your life and evaluate your relationships with them. What would you regret if they were to be gone tomorrow? And if you knew you'd never see them again - ever - what would you do? What would you say to them? Would you still waste your time on people you don't care about? Life is fragile.
This is not a proper time to bring up my new obsession with Grey's Anatomy, but this week's episode began with her questioning why people procrastinate doing something... and amounted it to fear, until it becomes akin to carrying around a 60 pound tumour everywhere you go. You don't go to the doctor when you find strange pus-filled bumps all over your body. You wait to see if it goes it away. You PRAY that it goes away. You're scared of what it might be. It could be cancer. Or it could be a skin infection. One thing about knowing you're going to expire is that there's nothing left to fear. People talk all the time about seizing the day. We should start doing it. But that's the idealist in me talking.
In reality, I don't think people really want you to declare your feelings for them. Whatever they may be. If I were to solemnly stop one day in the middle of my mee pok dry, look up at my lunch companion, look at them straight in the eye and tell them that I love them, appreciate their presence in my life and would be a mere fraction of the person I am today without them, I think they would get very uneasy. It's a notion saved for birthday cards and light moments in a "love ya, babe" sentiment. Or it's something you show in other little ways. It's all in interpretation - Clifford Geertz's notion of a wink and twitch.
Contrary to what people think of me, and strangely, contrary to the way I perceive myself also, I am terrible with showing emotion. Or with sharing my feelings. I always speak of them in a third-party way. I am socially awkward. I avoid things with standard expectations of social graces because I'm afraid I'll make a terrible faux pas. Which I tend to do. So I get stiff. I stay silent. I smile. I hold back my tears to the best of my ability. I never know what to say. This social shortcoming, I only acknowledged today.
There are times when I want so much to just grab a person and hold them. Or be held. I feel that's one of life's greatest comforts - a good embrace. And that's the best I can offer. When it comes to saying things, I'm stumped. People say I wear my heart on my sleeve. I don't usually have to say anything, the way I feel about someone is often plastered on my forehead. Usually. Last night, my 'rift' and issues with former alliances came in question. Someone called me on it. At least I am civil to them now, but I don't bother being warm. I didn't expect to be called on it. What's going on in my life right now is that a piece of my history is being revised, edited. Second/Third/Fourth Edition. The thing with history is that you don't want your stupidity to repeat itself. You make mistakes to repeat them, and then learn from the scars. You don't want to regress. But times have changed, and you know who you are and what you want (maybe). What is it you want to know? It's something deeply entrenched in emotion. Something you don't want to drown in. But something you're irrevocably drawn towards.
Proceed with Caution.There is no Lifetime Guarantee on friendships. It's a living, thriving thing which you can quell with unconscious cruelty, neglect with time or nurture with mutual effort. It can fade away, it can expire. It can break, and it can be put together. I've learnt so much this week, and it's only Wednesday.One thing I can say about this -It forces you to mature, whether you're ready for it or not.But don't worry. You're not alone.
struck.
Hahaha.
Goodness! When it strikes, it strikes!
I think the reason why I haven't blogged in so long is because I used to blog in hostel. It was part of the routine. I had much to say and I said it. And then somehow, things just stopped mattering.
Sad, I know.
I keep putting it off but I really want to write about the trip. Ahh, the trip! There is so much I wanted to say and still do. So many things sort of... became so clear.
Like the way I lost my voice those years ago.
I say now, Screw that. Give me my voice back.
Sometimes I just need to give myself a good talking to.
If that fails, then I just need to talk to myself.
Lalala.
Goodness! When it strikes, it strikes!
I think the reason why I haven't blogged in so long is because I used to blog in hostel. It was part of the routine. I had much to say and I said it. And then somehow, things just stopped mattering.
Sad, I know.
I keep putting it off but I really want to write about the trip. Ahh, the trip! There is so much I wanted to say and still do. So many things sort of... became so clear.
Like the way I lost my voice those years ago.
I say now, Screw that. Give me my voice back.
Sometimes I just need to give myself a good talking to.
If that fails, then I just need to talk to myself.
Lalala.
the subconscious hush
I haven't blogged in eons and suddenly, out of nowhere, I am struck by a sudden thought.
It has been a long time since I have been able to express myself freely. Sometimes you get so used to censorship that you don't realise what you have been reduced to. There is an uneasiness you feel that you can't quite put your finger on. There is contrivance, there is thought behind each sentiment you express, each expression you allow yourself to show. Yes, there are times when you can't quite wield it and there are times when you lose control but it is not the same thing as free expression. Saying something just because you're thinking it. Even if it doesn't make sense. Not giving a rat's ass about what people will think about it, what people will say. To just "say what we feel, not what we ought to say".
To be free to be you.
There is a cathartic liberation when it happens. A frisson of delight from a random thought. It takes a lot to be able to do that with somebody. To not fear judgement.
I have just come to realise just how much I have been holding back in my interactions with people. Yes, I am admitting that I am aloof.
I imagine rapturous laughter emerging from some who read that statement but I think it is true. I'm repressed. After all the Helen Huntingdons and Marianne Dashwoodline effusions, I turn out to be Eleanor Dashwood. Gah.
William Blake's 'Angel', "shielding her fears with ten thousand spears" and bloody "pale virgin shrouded in snow".
Maybe it's time to be honest and open with myself.
Regardless of repercussions.
Perhaps
it is time
to unleash.
It has been a long time since I have been able to express myself freely. Sometimes you get so used to censorship that you don't realise what you have been reduced to. There is an uneasiness you feel that you can't quite put your finger on. There is contrivance, there is thought behind each sentiment you express, each expression you allow yourself to show. Yes, there are times when you can't quite wield it and there are times when you lose control but it is not the same thing as free expression. Saying something just because you're thinking it. Even if it doesn't make sense. Not giving a rat's ass about what people will think about it, what people will say. To just "say what we feel, not what we ought to say".
To be free to be you.
There is a cathartic liberation when it happens. A frisson of delight from a random thought. It takes a lot to be able to do that with somebody. To not fear judgement.
I have just come to realise just how much I have been holding back in my interactions with people. Yes, I am admitting that I am aloof.
I imagine rapturous laughter emerging from some who read that statement but I think it is true. I'm repressed. After all the Helen Huntingdons and Marianne Dashwoodline effusions, I turn out to be Eleanor Dashwood. Gah.
William Blake's 'Angel', "shielding her fears with ten thousand spears" and bloody "pale virgin shrouded in snow".
Maybe it's time to be honest and open with myself.
Regardless of repercussions.
Perhaps
it is time
to unleash.
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