Finals are finally over and I cannot believe it but I'm kinda longing to write papers again. HAHA. Says a lot about my life if I miss school, and that I'm feeling empty because I have now nothing to do.
That aside, Yiru sparked my interest with writing about the contemporary and modern situation- enough to want to make me watch a little more of Futurama, at least.
With that said, I'm hoping to be able to write a paper like "Futurama- Is Moral Consciousnesses a human concept?" Or " A Feminist rereading of Robin Thicke's Blurred lines" or something.

What's wrong with me. Eek.

On another note, going to New Zealand for exchange has suddenly become extremely concrete. Not that it wasn't before, mind you, but up till now I had been living behind the Let's-Finish-Exams-First barrier. Now that finals are over, I'm finding myself suddenly engulfed in having to deal with VISA applications, chest X-Rays (seriously), and the booking of the airplane ticket. It's overwhelming. I'm apprehensive. I'm not one who likes to venture out of my comfort zone, because I like the sensation of being cacooned by the familiar. I like the comfort (if you could even call it that) of NTU's familiar profs, the familiar friends and faces, but well, that's something that needs to be overcome. I need to learn how to break away from this shell, to enter into a unknown realm.

As one of my profs said this semester-" Realise your potential. Believe that you have the capabilites to go out there and do something good. I have faith in you, and you should have faith in yourself. Go out there, make friends, do something new, and above all, enjoy yourself. Welcome New Zealand with open arms. " (Lee, 2014)

New Zealand then, let's do this. University of Waikato, here I come.

You are important
To me, everything counted.
You have no idea.

You are staring in front of the mirror, watching your face slowly transform into that ghastly, unrecognisable figure, a cool contrast from the screams of the playing children just outside your window. "You'll be beautiful", you hear her whisper, as she picks up yet another one of those numerous brushes and paints your face another coat of pink blusher to match the pink roses in your hair. You've lost count of exactly how many times she's said those words, but in your mind, you're anything but beautiful. In fact, beauty isn't even in your mind at all. Instead, you're filled with a worry, a worry that should have been long discarded by now, because weeks before, you had said yes. Caught up in the shrieks of your friends as they whisked out cameras, and blinded by the flash of the ring as it sparkled on its bed of maroon velvet, you had, childishly of course, accepted the proposal. How strange, you think now, that one monosyllabic utterance would change the course of your life. How pathetically immature.

"Close your eyes", she said. You let your thoughts jog to a halt and then obediently obey her. For a few moment, all you can feel are the tugs at the corners of your eyelids as she swept over your shivering eyes with yet another stroke of the pencil. You hear her murmur that the eyeshadow was too thick, then felt the cold, impatient swipe of the makeup remover. You felt this, you felt that -

"Have you ever felt what it was like to be at the other end of the pencil?" she asked. 

Yes, you have. Of course you have. You have felt what it was like when the only worry was that your eyelashes had too much mascara, or when the greatest fear was when there wasn't enough makeup remover in case you put too much on your client. And you wish that you could feel like that again, when the cold engagement ring didn't sit heavily on your finger. 

You watch as she steps away from the canvas of your face and surveys her handiwork, before letting out a tired sigh. "I think I look great", you tell her, and then smile at her.You have to reassure her, because at the end of the day, that's all she's concerned about. She finally relaxes and with one final glance at your face she leaves the room, and you are alone. She has done a great job, spending hours covering up the tiny creases under your eyes, working her way around to mask each worry and each fear that was tucked away into the folds of each crease. She had done an excellent job, no doubt, and for that you were glad. No one now had access to those creases. 

Least of all was her would-be husband, who was the one who put those creases there in the first place. But these of course, he never knew. Like how he never knew her shoe size and her favourite food. Like how he never knew that she wanted to be an untouched virgin till the night of her marriage, how he never knew, till just two weeks before the marriage, that his actions had resulted in the two double lines in the window of the pregnancy kit. How he never knew that she had her wedding dress altered to fit her gradually bulging tummy. After all, the standard wedding dress never measured more than a size ten. When you eventually told him that you were pregnant, he was horrified. Of course. Any husband would be, especially before they had even been formally engaged. He had begged you to marry him, to hold the wedding quickly because he didn't want such "things" to tarnish his reputation as a family lawyer. And you had graciously said yes. Of course. You were a makeup artist, after all. 

A sudden shriek made you make your way towards the window, where you watched three girls playing in the garden. In identical pink frocks, matching pink hairbands and pink shoes, it was hard to tell them apart, but soon it became clear. The girl with the longest hair was pretending to be a bride, arm in arm with another short-haired girl who was the groom. The third was the cameraman, standing at the end of the aisle and pretending to capture the memories of the wedding ceremony. The shriek you had heard earlier was from the girl-cameraman, who was slowly getting tired of holding out a make-believe camera and pretending to click the it in the air. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of such innocence. Such audacity, you thought, but then they were children, and you rationalised that they couldn't possibly know. Then you heard another shout, an adult's voice this time, calling the children in to wash up, and watched as the girls abandoned their game play and run out of your sight. 

The garden was empty now, but at the far corner of the garden near the gate, a solitary withered rose broke the uniformity of the green lawn. 

To whom it may concern

To whom it may concern:

Dear _____

I write this letter to you with pity. I'm writing to you because, after all these years, it's about time that I made this known to you, because you've spent the the last few years living a happy delusion. And that delusion doesn't just extend to me. It extends to the way you live and your mindset. That all that time you've been happily believing (in denial perhaps, but that's only for you to admit) in your little fantastical dream. A dream that I started off detesting but for which now I merely scorn at. Hence the pity which I first started this letter off with.

I want to tell you that I've grown up. To all those who have not had their eyes veiled by delusion or myth, then it's not a surprise to them, and that is something I applaud them for. They've seen me through and through, and where I am today, in a university studying the subject I like, is because of them.

It's not because of you though, don't get your hopes up. You're the one who's been living under that beautiful rock , you're the one who's been viewing the sky through the opening of the well entrance.You're the one whom, I'm sorry to say, have been thinking that you've done it all right when in fact, you couldn't be further from the truth.

I grew up a long time ago. I grew up when I was bullied by all those girls back in secondary school. I grew up with I cried myself to sleep because I couldn't talk to anyone about it, because I tried to tell you and you brushed me off - you didn't understand. I grew up when they picked on me for my thin, skinny arms and flat chest. I grew up when I met those bullies years later and they realised that the girl they'd been picking on now had larger boobs then them. Or perhaps the time I had my first kiss, the first time I had my heart broken by a boy, the first time the boy learned that I'm not the kind of girl to mess with. Or the time when the boy you thought was a great catch was abusing me behind your back. You never knew all this. Your knowledge of me was as superficial as the delusion you live by.

Overtime, I learnt to stay away. Emotionally, I disconnected myself from you. You believed that that I was as untouched as a fresh rose petal, you believed that I was as as unharmed and unhurt as the fresh strawberries you ate for breakfast. And I don't blame you for feeling that way. In a way, it was my fault, because I didn't update you on my life. But I blame you for being so blind. You chose not to see the person I was becoming, and instead of accepting it, you thought it was smart to try and force your way to ensure that I fit within your scope. That couldn't have been a more wrong decision. As with the creepers you grow in your garden, you cannot dictate where they will grow. "Let them grow and if they're out of control, I'll snip them", you often said. That's unfortunately not the case for me. You cannot dictate the growth of a person, and even if you could, you'd be too blind to see it. You're watering in the wrong pot of plant.

And while you were so busy watering your pot of soil, I was busy too. I was busy growing up in a pot that nurtured me with the love, and kept me alive by constantly giving me hope. That was something you never gave. I grew up differently. but to you, it wasn't growing up at all. It is only growth if you cultivate it. Your plant isn't the plant you wanted, and you pretend its not there.

End of the day, my message is simple. You don't have to change your way of thinking. In fact, I don't want you to change the way of thinking even if you could, because frankly speaking, it's too late. You don't have to scramble around desperately for some connection with me, because any connection you tried to make was severed years ago and now there isn't one. In fact, sometimes I wish you'd continue living in this delusion, because no matter what this letter has said, you can choose to ignore it, and live in denial, just as you've always done. You'd be happier that way.

Just remember though, that the day you choose to look at me the way I am, don't be too surprised. Don't let the shock overwhelm you, because that's not good for your heart. Because all these years, you choose not to listen, and that is something I cannot control. Just as you cannot control how you want me to grow.

Till then, you can keep watering that empty pot of soil.

Cheers,
XXXX

Sometimes I feel like I'm running a race that I'll never end. I know I've blogged about school for sometime, and that I've whined repeatedly about my fears for school, but nothing preprared me for this amount of work. This amount of... stress.

I don't know. MAybe it's part of uni life, you know, getting used to all this nonsence. The fact that you are always worrying about something or other, the fear that something remains incomplete. The worry that has carved a permanent hole that now seeks to constantly be refilled with more worries. It's a vicious cycle, and amidst all of this, I'm struggling to keep my head afloat, to keep it from going under. Still waters run deep, they say, except that in this case, the water isn't still but its still deep. The waters are turbulent and disturbing, and with each wave they threaten to drown those who keep their heads afloat. And I'm clinging on, hoping that something will come my way that will buoy me up and provide a short, temporal relief.

Strangely enough though, it seems that I'm a lot calmer this semester. I remembered how I still struggled to prevent myself from cracking, and I did crack in class once (Oh God I still remember the faces of the people in my table, but mortification aside..). I'm not sure if this inability to crack is a good or a bad thing anymore, to be honest. Socially, it's a good thing. I'm keeping myself from falling apart so I exude a more refined, perhaps less rickety demeanour this sem. Yet sometimes it worries me, this calmness, because I'm not sure if it's because I 1. have gone beyond the ability to break down or 2. the fact that I will break down sometime later in the sem and that it's going to be worse that whatever I might have seen so far. It scares me.

"Hey Ju", I hear a voice and I turn around. It's my friend, and I smile and wave, because that's what I've been taught is socially acceptable. To be polite. To be nice to your friend. Singa the Lion says you must be courteous. So that's what I do, because its a mechanical action but for which, in my opinion, has lost its meaning.
" How's your essay?" she asks, and I respond with a nod and a smile. A smile that conceals a grimace. "So-so. Haven't done much. Don't know what he's asking for in the essay also. Suka suka." I have learnt that that is the best way to reply. She doesn't see my grimace. Thank God, I say to myself.
The next question I was posed to ask would be one that kills me, I know, but I can't help it. I ask it anyway. "Oh, not much. I sacrificed this essay for the sake of another essay tha'ts more pressing. Yknow, sua la, get C then get C lo. Haha!" she says, with lying happy eyes. Lying, because you know that she's not telling the truth. Someday you and her will receive your results and she will act all surprised at the fact that she "scraped" ("I have no idea how I did this, seriously") an A. And it kills you, because you know that unlike her, you haven't just taken a "sua la" attitude with this essay. I turn away from her and from behind, I hear a soft murmur. I turn back to face her and in an instance, I see a set of fangs in my face. A soft hiss ensues. "You-" I say, but before I could continue, I felt a sharp tug along the based of my spine and then, turning around, I see a red liquid bubble from where the tip of the fangs made contact with my skin. I could see the droplets of this red liquid on the floor. One, two three, I was counting, before I felt myself being lifted off the ground. "It's not over yet", the creature murmured, its fangs still deeply embedded in the skin near my tailbone, from which now the blood was freely flowing. The creature, with me hanging from its fangs, swung around and in that instant, I saw, in those creature's eyes, the eyes of my friend. The same pair of lying, happy eyes that whisked by me as the creature let go of its grip and I fell to the ground.

It's the elephant in the room that I haven't addressed for a long time.

I think it's been 2 years, yet I still feel so awkward. So odd. So... judged. And sometimes its painful and its tiring to have to search for topics to talk about. But what can I do? I hate feeling like I'm any less well-liked. And in fact, my boyfriend is just about as well liked as me.
But why in the world do I feel so empty even when I'm laughing and being happy? Somehow beneath all that laughter there's still this emptiness that this happiness cannot penetrate, and thus, cannot fill.
I don't know what's up.

6th August: Last day with FP Finance

6th August 2014 : The day I ended my work at Fairprice Finance with the AR department.

Spending the last 3 whole months working here amongst the sweetest people I could ever meet in an office, and have them patiently teach me the ropes while I clumsily tried to introduce math back into my life (damn you, English major) proved to be one of the most valuable lessons I've ever picked up in my life. Since this was my second time working here with Fairprice ( I worked here last year, but under a different department, Sales department I think), I still remember how, on the first day I stepped into the office this year, Joan (AKA Big sister) remarked that I looked extremely tired and sad. And that's kind of true, because I remember that sinking feeling of disappointment when I realised that our department had no other temp staff. In fact, I went so far as to think of quitting within the first 2 weeks because the nostalgia was overpowering. Back then, I was still struggling with the nostalgia of Zul and Nigel last year, when I actually had temp staff whom I could kinda (?) get along with. Add that to the horror of realising that most, wait no, everyone in my department spoke Chinese, I thought I was a goner (Again, damn you English major). At least, where making friends were concerned. I braced myself for a rough 3 months.

But I guess that if I could take these photo at the end of my 3 months, you'd have probably guessed that things took a turn for the better.

The semi-complete AR department, minus Xiufeng who was on MC :(

AR department minus Zibin and Xiufeng

The temp staff in 3 (no, not 50) shades of grey. Minus Jun Hao, whom isn't here because he was in reservist.

My supervisor Zibin and I. Yes, our matching grey jackets again.

2 weeks into working there and I finally, finally started to open up. And I never looked back since. Despite the language barrier, I managed to pick up some Chinese (omgosh right) and could communicate with them in simple, english-slanged Chinese, which till this day they can't stop teasing me about. They turned out to be a bunch of such fun-loving people, and they even opened up to me too, being privy to their woes and joys of working within the environment. Even those whom I thought I would never have a chance to talk to cordially eventually opened up to me as well, and I'm very thankful for that. Perhaps only now can I say that being a part of their jokes and teasing was the only reason why I pulled through this entire 3 months. (Cue Zibin's various somewhat derogatory nicknames oops :P ) But jokes aside, I honestly can't be more thankful to this small group of people. It turned out that having a small department worked to my advantage as well because I knew everyone personally. Because of this, 3 months suddenly appeared to pass by too quickly and before I knew it, I was ending. It was somewhat bittersweet, I guess, but having been only there for 3 months I can't say very much, except for the fact that its yet another phase of my life that's just passed. And that's what makes this ending sad, because after having been close to them, at the end of the day, I'm still a temp staff, and I still have to leave after an unbearably short time because Uni sememster's starting. A part of me knows that, realistically, its extremely difficult to do this seeing as we have no common topics. Still, I sometimes cling to the hope that we'd still talk, perhaps just an occasional hello, or a quick catchup. Afterall, they're my first experience working within an office (the kindergarten doens't count), and first experiences always make for the most memorable ones. 

I have one more opportunity to see them though, and that's for my farewell which was supposed to be last Friday but which got postponed, so.. I'm looking forward to that. 

In part, it was thanks to the temp staff who joined who eventually made my life there whole, because there was Daniel from last year whom rejoined the company, so finally I had a friend whom I knew before.

I guess all these factors eventually contributed to the fact that I enjoyed those 3 months. Work, while menial for me, was a form of catharsis, and hence it purged me from the stresses of school. Where I once couldn't fathom the idea of talking to Zibin, my last few weeks had me pestering him for help with registering for the Colour Run. The same went with the other perm staff, because I would have never dreamed of talking to them about my personal matters. but I eventually did. Perhaps you could say that I'm being overly grateful, but to be honest, there's nothing like the first time which teaches you the most. 

And so, to my manager, my team leader, and all the clerical officers, thank you. It's been great.

There is something extremely painful about leaving one phase of life for the next. Because that's when you realise the greatest issue with time is the fact that time is such an unfriendly, relentless entity. There are times like this when I wish that I could turn back the clock, to enjoy the catharsis that work gave me. But I can't, because its over, and when it's over it can't come back. Time doesn't permit it.
Yeah, you probably realised, by now, that I'm talking about work.Or rather, the fact that I'm no longer working.
It hurts, but perhaps what is more surprising is the fact that the hurt isn't a constant ache. I can be fine one moment, and the next, the nostalgia of the entire 3 months comes crashing forward like a bowling ball and it manifests itself as a physical pain that swims just behind my eyes. It leaves me gasping. Sometimes I even feel like breaking down. But I don't, because well, that's just plain stupid to do so. Life changes, and one moves through one phase of life to the next, why can't I?
I think it just boils down to the fact that I feel like I'm resistant to change. I've settled my roots in here, only to have to uproot them again and move.

In any case, I could just summarise and say that I miss them. I miss them all so much. I wish I wasn't so sentimental.

Sometimes, I forget. I forget and I think that I'm different, that I'm special from the others. But things like that sometimes... make me remember that no matter what, I don't play a special role. And that any attempt at feeling inflated is well, proving to be my greatest downfall.

I shan't say too much, but perhaps this sense of mixed regret/hurt/embarassment/sadness for something I had hoped would be true helps me to grasp reality, I guess. At the end of the day, that's who I am. Normal. Ordinary. Unsuspecting. Just like everyone else who's been before me and whom will come after me.

I can't deny that I'm hurt. That I'm crushed. But I'm thankful. I'm thankful for being able to understand that that's how the real world works. Thank you, Reality, for slamming me to the ground in the hardest, most painful way possible. Thank you, for allowing me to understand that my emotions were just one large daydream. That no matter how much the dirt of the ground aspires to be something more, that she's essentially just a replaceable individual.

I'm such a bloody idealist. Or wait, I don't even know if I did anything wrong. I don't know anything. Screw this shit la. I feel like just breaking apart sometimes thinking about this.

One day more. Please, just one more day.

Each time I come here, it's always a gamble as to how much emotion I can actually reveal. After all, this is public, and sometimes I worry that what I reveal may show others more than what I should. Often enough, what eventually ends up being posted is a fraction of what I originally wanted to say. But then again, isn't that how the online world works? You put something up, only hoping that nothing will in fact be used against you.

I'm going to take the leap here then, and hope that this gamble I'm taking will turn out right. For a start, I'm extremely relunctant to stop working. Honestly. Not because I love work so much, but more like, it's anything better than studying. For now. I know what everyone usually says about work, that once work begins, you will long for school. I don't deny that, because I will probably say the same once I've had 20 years or so of working experience up my sleeve, but that's an emotion I'm not feeling now. I like the catharsis the work environment provides, and it's something I don't get often.  My colleagues (the perm staff, mainly) at the workplace say I'm hyper, that I'm extremely sociable, and sometimes their words strike as ironic because that's exactly how I don't act in school. Ask anyone you know from my course and you'll see. I'm a very different person when semester begins.

Speaking of semester, that's something that I'm also dreading. This semester will bring forth a whole new method of conducting lessons, and that's through seminars. No more tutorials (like, what?! ). I'm not sure how 70 odd people in a class will help my shy self, especially since I tend to clam up (yeah, I know, public speaking training gone down the drain, supposedly) when there are large crowds, especially where everyone is scrutinising my opinion. Then again, perhaps not all of lit is like that, it just so happened that my course mates last sem were, well, rather competitive. I didn't like that much, because that gave me a whole load of stress. I fear how I'm going to cope, really.

I'm sort of living in a trance as it is. A very dream-scape setting, where I'm working and then all of a sudden, there's school. Sometimes I think the juxtaposition is too great, on other times I think it compliments, in all the oddest ways. Like the temp staff who work with me, for example. They're studying too, and they seem to flow easily between the working world and school. I'm still stumbling around trying to find my way. Maybe its because I tend to be overly resistant to change. Resistant to the thought of changing environments so quickly, growing close to a group of people then having to suddenly tear yourselves away from them for another different group, and all over again. Maybe that's the reason why I went back to work with NTUC to begin with, because I was resistant to the idea of finding another, unfamiliar working environment and having to start all over again. I was clinging to the thought of having just one familiar face at the workplace but it turns out that I made a whole bunch of new friends, friends that I *hope* remain. I really hope they do. If I could make a whole bunch of new friends, what's stopping me from shifting to another work environment? That's a question I'm still trying to answer. Perhaps it all comes back to the fact that, at the end of the day, I'm stumbling, while others are more sure-footed and have already found their way.

I guess to end off, here's a picture of the temp staff and I, taken on the last day I'd meet the guy on the far left, Jun Hao. I guess I'll miss them, but I'll probably not miss them as much as I'll miss the department I've been working with. Which is quite strange seeing as how I should, technically, be closer to people my age.

Temp staff of this year, 2014

And... one year ago, on my birthday where the temp staff who worked with NTUC then celebrated my birthday with me.

And this last photo is of my Team Leader and I this year, 2014. Probably the one I'm closest to in the entire department, but I can say the entire department is pretty nice to me on the whole (: 

My TL and I, on our birthdays this year (Yes we share the same birth date! )

And this concludes my post, hopefully I sounded a little happier towards the end. I tend to sound extremely sad in my posts but that's when I'm usually reflective so yeah.

1 and a half weeks more.

Give me another one and a half weeks, and I would have ended yet another round of working with NTUC. It's a bittersweet sensation really. On one hand, sometimes, I long for school to begin, especially during those days when I feel that my job is extremely far away from the subject I'm actually studying. But most days, I don't mind the job, because after a while I learnt to appreciate my colleagues. And its this friendship that I am going to miss, actually. The fact that I could be myself and not be judged for it, the fact that my mood was very often light because I neveer had to worry about too much (I'm a temp, afterall), and the fact that despite the usual office politics, that they were careful not to involve me too much and that in a way, this kept me safe from the pain of having to navigate the dangerous world of relationships within the workplace.

As my weeks draw to a close, in a way, I can also say that I'm happy. I'm happy because this time round, I managed to realise the importance of treating this work as a catharsis, a purging of the pain of school, and I realised this early on. As such, I was able to make the best use of these 3 months by being the happiest I ever was (or will be? ) for the rest of my uni life. Here's probably a good time to mention my colleagues, because I owe it all to them for making my 3 months a happy one. I don't want to make them sound simple, because they are, after all, not 2D dolls whom I can merely compress into a few words. Rather, I see them being uncomplicated, unrestricted individuals whom genuinely desire to care for each other. In each person I see a different characteristic, but what really surprises me is the fact that these different characteristics seem to complement each other. Above all, I'm impressed by the team mentality they have, the constant hope for a unity within the department, and despite the disputes, that one can force aside any animosity when a greater objective needs to achieved. Watching these, I have a growing sense of respect for every individual within my department. In some, strength, in others, perseverance, and even sensitivity. I now understand what one means by a cohesive force.

On my side though, there isn't much of a takeaway from the job- after all, my job scope was fairly simple- but yet what i realised I picked up most were the skills. The skills of human communication, of interaction between colleagues especially, are things that are beyond the price of any physical skill. It is a development. I remember how, last year, the very first time I stepped into the office, this lady approached me and said that I was  "fresh out of school". I'm not sure if I was extremely pleased by her comment (but seeing as she was my reporting office, I had to keep my mouth shut ) but perhaps on hindsight, her remark now acts as a form of benchmark for me to gauge how much of a "school graduate freshie" I am. Perhaps now, and only now, can I say that I'm no longer the freshie that she described, and that I could have only come this far because of the skills that I have picked up at the workplace. It's not exhaustive, and definitely not sufficient for me as an adult, but it's a step, and any step is better than remaining still. 

In any case, this has been an extremely long and perhaps convoluted post, reflecting upon my work experiences and all. On a lighter, perhaps more physical note, I OT-ed for the first time yesterday and I can say that yeah, OT really drains a person. Heh. There was a fair lot of packing to be done but it was finally completed today. That means I can wear dresses again for the rest of the week, since I've been reusing my jeans and my only pair of work pants for 4 days straight :( My team leader would probably tease me if he knew about this, knowing him. That's another thing that cheers me up through the day, strangely. Despite my TL's constant teasing, its a reminder to me each time that I must lighten up. I respect him a lot for this actually, his ability to have that much responsibility, yet be able to joke with us. If anything, he's probably gonna be the one person I miss the most from the department. But I'd miss everyone too.

I shall end this post here. I'm not sure if I'm rambling or not, because I'm typing this half asleep (but I really needed to get it out lol ). Goodnight all. Another day of work again tomorrow. 

Working Woes and Wonders.

So it's been about a month since I started work at my old place, the finance department at NTUC. It took me a while, okay, perhaps more than a while, but I'm finally starting to get the hang of work again. It was not without trepidation that I first applied for the job which I quit last year when uni started, because being back in the place where I had so many good (and equally as bad) memories, the nostalgia might be too overwhelming.

And it was. In the first few days, there were unsettling, disturbing levels of loneliness and unhappiness. I resented the place for the memories it contained and I refused to let the past memories be replaced with anything new. To me, that place was where I met one of my best guy friends, where I went through the worst (and hopefully the last) experience between work colleagues. It didn't matter to me if my new colleagues were trying to be friendly or not- I blocked them out with sad smiles and spoke as little to them as I could.

However, I guess things did take a turn for the better. It took a lot of effort, but I finally let myself open up and be open to the fact that there are new colleagues here who might potentially be good friends as well. I tried to stop being a sad, moody girl and eventually tried to laugh and even joke with my colleagues and supervisor and it worked. They opened up to me as well. Where they weren't overly friendly, at least now they smile around me a lot more. I'm starting to be included in their jokes and strangely enough, this makes my working experience a whole lot better. Even my supervisor is opening up, and in doing so, I guess it warms me up and gives me a sense of hope that maybe, just maybe, I'd eventually let the memories of these wonderful people live alongside last year's, with Zul, Nigel, Daniel and Raj. Add that to the fact that Daniel came back to work too, though under a different department, but I now at least have someone my age.

But it's not all that happy though. Sometimes, I'm still a little sad by the language barrier. My Chinese is of subpar standard, and sometimes I find it hard to communicate with them because of it. I must learn how to speak slower, especially when I get excited. I have a feeling that I was probably flawing my supervisor with my words this afternoon when I sat with him for lunch. Maybe I really shouldn't have done that. Another thing- I'd give the age gap between my colleagues and I about 8-11 years difference, maybe. Which technically isn't a lot, in my opinion. But when they talk to me, sometimes I seem to sense some forms of distancing, perhaps because of my age, and perhaps because they think I'm too young. I'm the temp staff after all, so I can't blame them, but I wished that they'd treat me as their equal. Rather than, as my supervisor said today (hence this sad musing), " In my time..." to which I thought, "in your time? I'm not that young.. :( " but I didn't mention this, of course. Things like that help me remember that as much as I want to be friends with them, I will never succeed if all they see me as is a temp staff, a young girl, a uni student, rather than as their equal.

I guess there are always going to be pros and cons to working in such an environment. I've only been in there for 3 months, so maybe my opinions will change by the time I resign. Perhaps.Cest la vie.

Existential ramblings.

Couple of nights ago, I actually decided to go star gazing. Not as romantic as it sounds though. The stars in Singapore aren't brilliant, and those that we see are the feeble few that shine through the layers of haze and air particles that clog the night sky. Neither was I in a romantic place, watching what I could of the stars from the balcony window where, if I looked down, I could see my neighbour's lone Golden wandering around the road, perking its ears up to the occasional slam of the dustbin lid as someone out there tosses out the trash.

Yet this sight of the stars never fails to ignite, in me, a form of existential crisis. Suddenly it seems like all my problems are insignificant, because truthfully, they are transient problems. They are things that are limited by time. So much so that in fact, as existential as that moment might be, I'm actually happy, because it puts into perspective how I should be thankful that my issues are merely a drop in the vast ocean of nothingness.

And so is everyone else's, apparently. If each star reflects within in it a single individual's problems and turmoils, then we would need more than 6 billion stars, which might seem like a substantial number until we look beyond that star, and we realise that that star and all the stars which represent mankind are literally, specks amongst the entire galaxy. Even beyond that, there are millions of galaxies, each holding millions of stars... suddenly, the human race's status is utterly diminished. In fact, such a thought is often quite frightening. Who are we to think of saving the earth, venturing into neighbouring planets in the hope of finding extraterrestial creatures, when we are but such a tiny speck? Such attempts are, to me, an utter mockery of mankind- man who think we are so important as to host a meeting with beings we have completely no idea about? Speaking of which, I was recently reading an article about the Fermi principle- the idea that if, mathematically, there were a million different galaxies, then technically, wouldn't at least one have some form of intelligent life on a planet, just like we do? That article generated so many different responses from so many different scientists that perhaps such a question just isn't meant to be answered. Maybe what mankind is assuming as intelligent life isn't even intelligent to begin with, maybe our forms of intelligence is merely the infant stage of an even greater intelligence that we have yet to even begin discovering. Maybe we have been searching for signals from extraterrestrial beings in the wrong place to begin with. Maybe our technology is, like our intelligence, in far too primitive a stage to even begin picking up non-human signals. Maybe such beings do not even communicate via signals, maybe they have discovered a whole new method of communication that signals are archaic to them. You get the idea. Either way, as I once read, whether or not there are beings out there or not, both thoughts are equally frightening.

Right now, its odd how the mere sight of stars is able to ignite such thoughts. Or perhaps, a more human approach to it would be, What-am-I-doing-with-my-life now that I've realised the minority which we are? Perhaps this was just what the human race was meant to be, that in the larger scheme of things, we are no more than the animals that roam this planet, this ability to plan for the future that human so excitedly claim is a sign of 'intelligent thought' isn't actually a sign of true intelligence, that we are but a product in the process of evolution which is meant to eventually produce a form of true, pure intelligence that we are far from attaining. Humans have animalistic instincts- we rage, we kill when in a frenzy, we desire happiness, we love, we fight, alongside our supposedly more logical ones. The true intelligence which lies perhaps millions of years from now may never possess any of these animalistic desires, because they perhaps have learnt or evolved to live completely on rational and logic, and would perhaps no longer need to fulfill the human, animal instinct that we humans still need to fulfill today. Because perhaps we are , really, nothing. Nothing significant. Perhaps just possibly, that we are just like the millions of stars in the night sky that our naked human eyes today fail to see, because just like the stars,the human race is indeed a feeble one which would die out even before it has a chance to shine.

Fighting.
Always fighting.
All around me, I'm fighting. I'm fighting and I'm continually sinking.
All around me, people I know, they talk to me, they hug me and then they kill me.
Sometimes I can't even keep my head above the water anymore. It's constantly threatening to drown me, to swallow me within it's depths.
Sometimes I really just want to cave in, to tell someone everything, to have someone listen to me.
But there's no one. No one who fully understands. No one who sempathises. Or perhaps those 2 groups of people never overlap. Those who understand don't emphathise. And those whom empathise don't understand.
I'm stuck always feeling like the other one. The one whom can't get it. The one left behind.
I hate this.
But I don't have a choice, do I?
I've got to keep
Fighting.
Always fighting.
I hate this.
I effing hate this. 

Hide me now
Under Your wings
Cover me
Within Your mighty hand

When the oceans rise and thunders roar
I will soar with You above the storm
Father you are King over the flood
I will be still, know You are God
Find rest my soul
In Christ alone
Know His power
In quietness and trust

When the oceans rise and thunders roar
I will soar with You above the storm
Father You are king over the flood
I will be still, know You are God

It's funny how it is when I'm most stressed and depressed when church hymns come to me, and all these come to my unconsciously too. These are meanings that I grasp not in church, when the whole congregation is singing, but rather in my quieter moments where all the meaning of the hymns suddenly come surging forward like a wave. Like this hymn, for example. When I'm most vulnerable that hymns that appropriately suit the occasion suddenly conjure themselves up in my mind. It's not a coincidence. I am humbled. 

Hide me now... I can think of no other time I would need to seek refuge in the Lord

Under your wings... Because You are my protector.

Cover me... Allow me to submit myself to You completely

Within Your mighty hand... I am weak without You

And the whole chorus. Telling me that it is only with God's power that I can able to overcome my problems. That in the midst of the turmoil that I should look to God because He is the only constant, where everywhere else is a storm, a calamity. To be king over the flood is to have the power to guide me and lead me from the pain into peace. That with the Lord by my side I have nothing to fear, not even the rising oceans and the roaring thunders. Because He is king, and I know that He is God. 

I will be still, and know You are God. I will be still, not drawn into and battered by the storm and turmoil, because I know that He will guide me out of the pain. 

Just a short post here.

And I know any guy who sees this post will laugh, but there are times where I really feel like I should have signed on. Except for one problem. If it wasn't for the fact that I'll have to serve 5 years, I would.
Really. 

Who needs flowers?

Happy Total Defence Day!

Hah. I'm just so tired of everyone going Happy Valentine's Day so yes, here's to something not so mainstream. ( On that note, today was indeed Total Defence Day)

None the less, its still time to jump on the Valentine's Day bandwagon (so much for trying to be non-mainstream). 

It's coming close to 2 years since we first got together. Our story of how we started getting close because he fixed my GC for me when I was panicking before my math exam was a story that most already know. As for the lesser known story, I used to stick black tape on his arms in order to attempt to wake him up as he often fell asleep in class next to me. The teacher used to threaten that if I didn't wake him up, I'd get into trouble as well, and being a good, unassuming JC kid back then I actually thought up of ways to wake him up, hence the black tape. Not that it worked though, because he still slept through it. 

In any case, I'm glad to have you. The care that you show me when you're worried about me, though harsh, is sincere, and that's what matters. Army has taught me to admire your resilience, and you're streetsmart in a way that I know I can never be. I wish I had your skill of reading quickly, because it would come in extremely useful for my course. Heh. 

In any case, most of what I want to say has been conveyed to you already, either in person or through the letter I wrote to you. I'm glad for you. Really. 

Spend most of our night walking around looking for a place to eat which wasn't crowded (I swear, everywhere had a queue). I guess its our fault for not reserving a table haha, and I can't blame him for not reserving one because he was outfield the whole week :((  I was perfectly find settling with hawker food, but then we found a place at Pastamania and there wasn't a queue! (: That was more than what I expected to begin with anyway, so I was honestly happy with the pasta and the brownies(: 

And here's some red velvets he bought from Twelvecupcakes. Shared them for breakfast the next day when he came over. 

And that was the end of our Valentine's day. Thanks for the sweet stuffed animal you gave me (It's much more lasting than roses yay) and who needs flowers anyway? Too conventional. 

For that matter, let's just stick to celebrating Valentine's day a day before or a day after. Friday night+Valentine's day +last day of Chinese New Year is definitely a recipe for disastrous dinner attempt :P 

" The fact that you're here with us today means that the professors who have interviewed you have found something special, something outstanding about your thinking, and that your opinion is indeed of quality. They want to hear from you. " - Priscilla, 1st day of Year 1, Sem 1, 5th August 2013.

Fast forward a few months later, and I honestly can't help doubting her words. What is so valuable about me, and what quality can I offer the class? Am I even good enough to mildy be able to contribute anything of some worth to the class? The encouragement is wearing off. Maybe it's because I'm just particularly pensive tonight, but sometimes I feel that I'm just.. not good enough. I'm not good enough for my friends, that they're all above me, and that I'm of no fight. Sometimes I try to psych myself into thinking otherwise, because I know that when you tell people you're of no standard long enough, one day they will believe it.

I'm worried that some people are actually believing it now. That I'm not good enough. That's I'm of no standard. Nothing to them. No fight. But why? Can I actually do it? Are my thoughts actually worthy? Why do I feel so superficial compared to them, or am I just criticising myself too harshly?
I keep thinking, I can't, I just can't. Sometimes the feeling is so great it actually crushes me under its weight. I don't even want to fight it, but I have no choice. I have to, I need to , prove to myself that I can do it, that I'm not stupid. Prove it to myself, maybe, then others will begin to realise that as well.

But I'm not brilliant. Or am I just refusing to see it? I don't know.
I don't have any answers.
Only the one answer that Priscilla gave on the first day. 

I rarely post photos of myself, so why not? 

I miss those days though. This photo was taken before semester started and I was, well, a lot happier. 

Can't wait for such days again. 

Why did I choose to present on the Book of Job. This is such a difficult book to present on. Not just difficult because of its depth, but also because I need to believe that what I'm saying is utter nonsense- religiously. But how do I argue a case when half the time my mind is telling me that I'm not speaking the truth, that I do not believe in what I say? That's going to come out somehow, in my presentation. And I don't want that to happen.
And as usual before I present or do anything that usually sparks fear, I pray. But how do I gather the courage to pray when I'm presenting on the negligence of God and the evil that God has let populate the world? Or better still, how do I explain the concept of sin without bringing all my Christian ideals in? Is it even possible?
How do I even begin searching for divine intervention for this, or should I? 

I suppose its not a really good thing that I tend to try to hide a lot of things.
Note the word try.
I'm not exactly the best at hiding my emotions, but I do a pretty good job hiding my illnesses, I think. But it isn't a good thing. The reason why I'm typing this- or rather, have the time to muse about inconsequential subjects like these- is because I'm sitting at my laptop with my left foot propped up on a chair and in a thick white bandage.
I guess it would never have been *this* bad if I hadn't aggravated the problem by insisting I was fine when all the other church members I was playing frisbee with asked if I wanted to sit out. Chu and this new girl, Mabel, even insisted that they saw my ankle twist but I denied. I even considered continuing the game... fortunately Chu had a clearer head than I did at that point in time. Adrenaline rush, I realise, does have its weird effects. Like causing me to still think it was okay to play with a sprained ankle (or what began as a sprained ankle). And I was still joking around with the church members during the break. Which probably made them think it wasn't serious.

Funnily enough, I actually thought it was nothing. I thought that I could just sit around for a while then continue playing, and I was wrong, again. It seems like I can never accurately gauge how bad my injuries are, and no, I never expected myself to land up at the A&E of TTSH tearing from the pain which eventually resulted in my left foot swelling. I didn't expect that I'd end up with a torn ligament either. Which, then again, is the reason why I'm missing school. For the next 3 days.

Maybe it's because I've been brought up never to care for myself, but this shouldn't be a excuse. Because this worries others who genuinely do care, and honestly, I'd really hate to disappoint these people. And when people care for me, or show me concern, I receive it awkwardly, merely because I know that I don't know how to return these acts of generosity. I push them away because I don't want the feeling of obligation, of knowing that I have to return these acts of kindness if they were in my position. Very few ( I can count these people on one hand) know that I'm joking. That I hide all this pain (physical pain) behind laughter. Judging from the reactions of my church members when they saw how I was joking about my injury, none of them (except Chu, maybe) know that I'm really hurt. And it's fine with me, albeit a little sad, somehow. Something about me wishes that they really knew. But I know that I can't accept all that care without giving something in return. I can't accept favours from anyone, maybe except from those really close to me. I wish I could tell them, but something stops me from doing so, as well. People say I need to learn how to speak up, and articulate my pain, but I can't, and I won't be able to for a long time. Chu says I need to learn how to take care of myself, but that, at least its somewhat within my means.

But the biggest lesson I learnt? Playing frisbee with thick nike sports shoes on an uneven field isn't a smart thing to do. 

Imperfect

I actually harbour a lot of imperfections, I think. Like the fact that, during my first tutorial of this semester, I was overcome with a panic attack because the people in my class looked so utterly serious. Like the fact that my professor seemed to be talking in a different language about Darwin's theory of evolution and the gaia and overmind and the collective conciousness and unconciousness. It's a blur and that's what scares me. Fine, granted that I eventually found out what all that meant, it doesn't mean it was any less, yknow, cheem. It took me a while to grasp it. What if I was the only one? And what if everyone else understood but were just faking that they didn't understand it? And best (or worst) of all, what if I was actually naive enough to believe them?

The idea of school hits me right in the gut sometimes, and its a sickening, wrenching feeling that physically manifests itself- the day before school began, I went home after playing Captain's ball with the church suffering from stomachache induced not by spoilt food, but by fear. That meant that I went to school the next day feeling uncomfortable as heck but I managed to pull through the day anyway. I had dinner with my ex-colleagues after (story another time) but with the sickening dread of school the next day.

Funnily enough, I don't remember feeling this way last semester. I was happy, then, but I guess the grim reality of uni life finally kicked in, and I'm slowly withdrawing from people, from friends and becoming this quiet person all over again. It always happens with school. And now I shall see who are the friends whom stay with me throughout this period. Time has proven that this is an effective method of separating the acquaintances from the friends.

Its about time I sign off from this blogpost anyway. I contemplated posting about the disastrous dinner meetup with my ex-colleagues (to me, at least), but I'll save that for another time. When the fear and stomachache and nausea of a new semester passes. 

2014

So.. its 2014. I've kept this blog for almost 7 years already. Time flies quickly indeed. And in sync with the tradition I've done almost every year, here's a little dedication to all those people who mean something to me.

To all those people I've met this year, including my best guy friend and all my uni mates, thanks for brightening my year. 2013 would have never been the same without you guys. I'm glad to have met you all in some way or another. This time last year, I was devoid of some of the best people in my life who made my year so brilliantly colourful. I was worrying over the start of my kindergarten teaching job, and I was mentally preparing to retake A levels/sign on/go to a private uni if my results turned out bad. But I did decently enough, and after applying for uni, I was fortunate to have met my work colleagues, one of whom I would have never imagined would turn out to be my best guy friend. You saw me through the crap at work, and knew that even as I was trying to be happy, that I was grappling with a lot of issues, and you pulled me through them by being there for me and for being a shoulder to cry on when I needed one. Then uni began, and I was happy to have met some of the sweetest and non-judgemental people around, whom pulled me through the darker days of uni life, and whom I became close to despite such a short period.

To those whom have seen me through 2013 and prior to that, thanks for always being there for me and for mainining close friends despite our vastly different schedules. We no longer see each other on a regular basis, but that never stopped us from remaining fast friends. Friends whom I can wholly trust without fearing judgement, and whom I can be truthfully, purely, happy with. I'm not a mushy person, but you guys have helped me through difficulties much more than you imagine, and I'd never want to lose you all for the world.

To my boyfriend, Chu, you deserve a special dedication because you're my other half, and this year will be a tough one as you'll be flying off for so many overseas exercises. We've lasted through more than a year- we're coming 2 years now- and I'm glad we stuck through everything together. Even though you're the most clumsy, bumbling person I've met, I still smile at your cute mannerisms. You know how to truly make me happy, so much so I am comfortable enough to slurp soup from the bowl, wear my worst home clothes and pull off my weirdest stunts without fearing judgement from you. Thanks for always trying to make me smile, by turning up with food and chocolate when I'm feeling down, and for knowing that my idea of a good date is a bowl of food and movie session at my house. Thanks for showing me all those cute little things to cheer me up when I'm stressed, whatsapping me pictures of cute fat rabbits or cats because you know that animals are our common love. The list is endless but these are just off the top of my head. You've made me contented and happy, and in return all I'd want is to be a better girlfriend for you, to care for you the way you want. I love you, and I'm not afraid of expresssing it here. Please stay safe in Brunei, and I'll be always praying for your safe return.