What a mad week it's been! And I mean mad in the dullest, most mind-numbing sense possible. Haven't been home since early Monday morn and probably won't till Friday eve. Sir Worksalot. Things wouldn't be so tragic if I weren't running out of socks... Just kidding! I've already run out of socks. 3 days in a row think my toes are gonna be dropping off real soon.
So thing's have been a little ridiculous at work lately, but not without its little bright spots too. Managed to have a number of meaningful conversations with people at work, even with colleagues I've known for close to 5 years now, and learnt a surprisingly lot in the process. Slogging away somewhat in tandem with your batchboys till midnight each day does bring its fair share of good times too, despite my having to go home to a layer of dust on my bed come Friday sigh.
All I really wanted to say was 放马过来! Gonna cling on to God's love and peace and joy and rest and not let myself be troubled by the insanity of work and the workplace. Now let me get what rest I can so good night fellas.
Thursday, 29 January 2015
Tuesday, 27 January 2015
Let The World Spin Madly On.
I've just been inspired to embark on my end-of-year post, a mere 2 (or 3 or 4 this post is taking ages to write actually) weeks after it did, indeed, end. I've been meaning to do it all this while but things kinda took a turn for the busy at the close of 2014 - happily so. Guess it's a good thing I held off on this cause the beginnings of this year have been nothing short of amazing, and offers a sort of vantage point from which 2014 can better be viewed in retrospect.
So, 2014. SSDD, as the cynics are wont to say? Definitely not! A couple of milestones arrived at and departed from - some momentous; some strangely anti-climactic and thus deflating to some extent. Yet more ticks on some hypothetical bucket list, which presumably shall allay some sort of quarter-life crisis perhaps, or at the very least much of the regret we all seem destined to bear as we approach middle age. Meh. Not sure how much these chest-beating facebook-conscious like-seeking checklists are gonna help just because "I visited 10 of these 15 places to see before you're 25!" So yes, I visited some incredible places and had some amazing experiences, but no, that's not why I'd say 2014 was on balance a good year. Not entirely.
Well. Came back home excited at the prospect of resuming a life that seemed in many respects like it'd been on hold, although it's hard to say when exactly that actually happened. Sometime between the heady days of our A levels - the sensation of being young, truly young that no one can fully identify with till it's gone - and the peculiar reality of enlistment, of endless confinements, perhaps. When life abruptly and jarringly began to be nothing more than an endless cycle of work and sleep and living for the weekends, and everything began to seem so completely pointless. Being displaced a continent and thousands of miles away didn't seem to change a thing, except to exacerbate the isolation and the fear of never quite being able to fit in. So it was that I returned fully expectant that finally, finally I could pick up the pieces of what remained and slowly begin to build on what I had.
I couldn't. Much as I enjoy and find meaning in what I do for a living, I couldn't shake the feeling that this, even this, meant nothing at all. Home at last to a decent job I actually like! How many people can say that? But no, it all felt as pointless as ever - I'd end work after a long day and think: What now? Not one of those trivial where-to-have-dinners or should-I-eat-alone-tonights but an existential question mark hanging like a cloud over every day and every week.
I began to think: all I need is someone to do all this for. Someone for whom I'd be excited to end work, someone who'd be there through the long days and the longer nights. It's a classic narrative after all, and I began to buy into it. All this led to, though, was a deeper sense of disappointment and regret, of late disquieting nights spent ruing the half chances and the missed opportunities and all those other silent ships in the dead of night. Just a couple of months away and still struggling with some of these thoughts, but I can say quite assuredly that no, this was not (and is not) the answer. It would have been an answer of sorts, for sure, but a weak one which would more than likely have collapsed on me in the end, precipitating some sorta crazy downward spiral or something. Der Untergang level at least.
Hmmm, okay. "This post will first set out the various crises a 22-year old male faced in the year 2014, before proceeding to inspect the solution(s) and will finally conclude with some thoughts on the coming year, 2015." Smooth.
There is much to be said about the availability (physical, emotional, even spiritual) of friends and family. Too much, in fact, that it should rightly constitute another post altogether if I'm ever feeling contemplative and thankful again (which I really should.) What I'll put down here is a mere (but no less superlative) thank you. It's pretty scary to realize how miserable life would've been without all these people; it's pretty easy to imagine how bad things would've turned out.
As indispensable as family and friends have been (to be filed under emotional support, direct or indirect, whether intentional or unintentional), the crux of my year was something else altogether (though not quite, everything builds upon everything else) - and it was God. It is God. An answer both exceedingly simple and excruciatingly complex; a path both joyful and painful to walk on.
If 2013 for me could be characterized by desire, of re-learning what it meant to want to want again, then perhaps my 2014 was about trust. About trusting God with my desires, my fears, my plans. With the past, the present, the ever-looming future. The past is a dark area without Him, the present a dangerous place to inhabit, and the future scary in the extreme.
I learnt so much about trust; I had to. Through disappointment, trying circumstances, failures, breakdowns. Through all the self-reproach, crippling self-awareness, attempts (conscious or subconscious?) at self-destruction. And all the natural highs too.
Solo travel to ever more exotic locales, and the accompanying sense of independence and self-sufficiency. Lesson: complete independence is not complete freedom; it is a prison unto itself. You don't claw your way back from independence. Not by yourself, you don't. Self-sufficiency feels good for a while, it's empowering, and then you think: what am I empowered for? For myself, and myself only. An unsatisfactory state of affairs to say the least.
Survival of uni and subsequent graduation, one more paper qualification to brandish, another chance to flex the ego, but it begged the eventual question: so what? Of course, as existential/quarter/mid-life crises questions go this is one of the most ubiquitous, repeated ad nauseam, but its worth asking nonetheless. Especially upon graduation, the end of the yellow brick road, launchpad to (reportedly) inevitable success, pinnacle of a Singaporean Student's existence. The paper chase is (possibly) over; the rat race can now rightly be begun in earnest! But so what, so what, so what. It's kinda heavy stuff if you let it get to you - which it did, of course.
So here they were, among others, elements of the good life as the world says they should be - and it all seemed to add up to nothing. All that accomplishment and achievement and it was all just as futile and pointless as the dark days, the dog days. Worse, even. At least in the darkness you want to work towards the light; when you're lost and wandering you harbour hope of being found. When I arrived at the human conception of "success" I found that beyond the peak lay nothing. I remember taking the train out of Exeter, graduation certificate in hand, shape of the mortarboard still impressed upon my hair, and sure it felt good, but it's the overwhelming sense of emptiness I felt on that train which left its imprint on me. What next? Back to Singapore, back to work, back to family and friends. But what next?
Well. Thank God for God. 2014 ended up with me poised on the brink of something big and scary and exciting all the same time. Thank God for empowering leaders - and the insane faith that God has in me too, despite all the times I've messed up, all my failures as a "leader", all the times I've managed to stray from the path. Amazing grace. Unearned, unmerited, undeserved.
The opportunity to co-lead a group during the young adults' retreat was such a ridiculous, miraculous one - one that I really can't help but thank God for. It was pretty scary, and I had to learn necessary lessons in trust, in submission, in humility before and even during the retreat. The fear of failure, of rejection, feelings of inadequacy, unpreparedness, etc. It meant that I had to step out. Step up. Grow up.
And I reaaaaaaallly didn't want to have to. At some level I was pretty happy with the status quo, with staying in the background, with weekends binge watching movies and TV shows, playing dota, being careless and callous. Why would I want to take up responsibility, take on pressure? Except that I knew I had to, too. So God places me here (where I'd never thought I'd be) and it turns out to be the right place at the right time, and maybe I'm not quite the right person - but God will mould me to be just that. I have to learn how to let God work through my insecurities, and stop allowing myself to use them as excuses to not do what He's called me to do.
So I've managed to learn so much about community, what it means to love and be loved, about joy and peace and rest, and perhaps even had glimpses into servanthood and leadership. All in the past 2 or 3 months. Sacrifice, too. About what it means to put the Kingdom of God before the other things in life - a painful lesson; a precious one. One I'm still learning everyday. Really crucial lessons at this juncture in my life, a season for growth, of learning what it truly means to be a man of God. To be a disciple of Jesus.
You know what people say: Growing up sucks. And part of me still believes that, still wants to cling on to youth - nay, immaturity. Still wants to be beholden only to myself and to myself alone. Duty-free, obligation-less. The easy life. But by no means the good life. I think I've learnt enough over the past few weeks and months to say with conviction that no, I shall not again choose the easy life. Not at the expense of the life God wants me to have.
And maybe this path will alienate some people. I've always taken a measure of pride in being pretty savvy, pretty worldly. A man of the world, if you will. I thought that was not too shabby. Maybe one of the reasons I've found it so difficult to go all out for God is that I always kinda think: I'm not half bad myself, right? Maybe so and maybe no, but even that's not enough. Not anymore. And so maybe this will seem completely weird and strange to people, but I guess a line's gotta be drawn somewhere, and this is it. This is where I lay everything down and say "Father God, all that I have, all that I am, I give to You. Take me as I am. Use me as You will. No holding back. Let's go!"
So let the world spin madly on. I will be still and know that You are God. Days shall pass, seasons will change. Years go by, life goes on. And through it all I know that You will be with me, that You love me so. So let me run, run!
So, 2014. SSDD, as the cynics are wont to say? Definitely not! A couple of milestones arrived at and departed from - some momentous; some strangely anti-climactic and thus deflating to some extent. Yet more ticks on some hypothetical bucket list, which presumably shall allay some sort of quarter-life crisis perhaps, or at the very least much of the regret we all seem destined to bear as we approach middle age. Meh. Not sure how much these chest-beating facebook-conscious like-seeking checklists are gonna help just because "I visited 10 of these 15 places to see before you're 25!" So yes, I visited some incredible places and had some amazing experiences, but no, that's not why I'd say 2014 was on balance a good year. Not entirely.
Well. Came back home excited at the prospect of resuming a life that seemed in many respects like it'd been on hold, although it's hard to say when exactly that actually happened. Sometime between the heady days of our A levels - the sensation of being young, truly young that no one can fully identify with till it's gone - and the peculiar reality of enlistment, of endless confinements, perhaps. When life abruptly and jarringly began to be nothing more than an endless cycle of work and sleep and living for the weekends, and everything began to seem so completely pointless. Being displaced a continent and thousands of miles away didn't seem to change a thing, except to exacerbate the isolation and the fear of never quite being able to fit in. So it was that I returned fully expectant that finally, finally I could pick up the pieces of what remained and slowly begin to build on what I had.
I couldn't. Much as I enjoy and find meaning in what I do for a living, I couldn't shake the feeling that this, even this, meant nothing at all. Home at last to a decent job I actually like! How many people can say that? But no, it all felt as pointless as ever - I'd end work after a long day and think: What now? Not one of those trivial where-to-have-dinners or should-I-eat-alone-tonights but an existential question mark hanging like a cloud over every day and every week.
I began to think: all I need is someone to do all this for. Someone for whom I'd be excited to end work, someone who'd be there through the long days and the longer nights. It's a classic narrative after all, and I began to buy into it. All this led to, though, was a deeper sense of disappointment and regret, of late disquieting nights spent ruing the half chances and the missed opportunities and all those other silent ships in the dead of night. Just a couple of months away and still struggling with some of these thoughts, but I can say quite assuredly that no, this was not (and is not) the answer. It would have been an answer of sorts, for sure, but a weak one which would more than likely have collapsed on me in the end, precipitating some sorta crazy downward spiral or something. Der Untergang level at least.
Hmmm, okay. "This post will first set out the various crises a 22-year old male faced in the year 2014, before proceeding to inspect the solution(s) and will finally conclude with some thoughts on the coming year, 2015." Smooth.
There is much to be said about the availability (physical, emotional, even spiritual) of friends and family. Too much, in fact, that it should rightly constitute another post altogether if I'm ever feeling contemplative and thankful again (which I really should.) What I'll put down here is a mere (but no less superlative) thank you. It's pretty scary to realize how miserable life would've been without all these people; it's pretty easy to imagine how bad things would've turned out.
As indispensable as family and friends have been (to be filed under emotional support, direct or indirect, whether intentional or unintentional), the crux of my year was something else altogether (though not quite, everything builds upon everything else) - and it was God. It is God. An answer both exceedingly simple and excruciatingly complex; a path both joyful and painful to walk on.
If 2013 for me could be characterized by desire, of re-learning what it meant to want to want again, then perhaps my 2014 was about trust. About trusting God with my desires, my fears, my plans. With the past, the present, the ever-looming future. The past is a dark area without Him, the present a dangerous place to inhabit, and the future scary in the extreme.
I learnt so much about trust; I had to. Through disappointment, trying circumstances, failures, breakdowns. Through all the self-reproach, crippling self-awareness, attempts (conscious or subconscious?) at self-destruction. And all the natural highs too.
Solo travel to ever more exotic locales, and the accompanying sense of independence and self-sufficiency. Lesson: complete independence is not complete freedom; it is a prison unto itself. You don't claw your way back from independence. Not by yourself, you don't. Self-sufficiency feels good for a while, it's empowering, and then you think: what am I empowered for? For myself, and myself only. An unsatisfactory state of affairs to say the least.
Survival of uni and subsequent graduation, one more paper qualification to brandish, another chance to flex the ego, but it begged the eventual question: so what? Of course, as existential/quarter/mid-life crises questions go this is one of the most ubiquitous, repeated ad nauseam, but its worth asking nonetheless. Especially upon graduation, the end of the yellow brick road, launchpad to (reportedly) inevitable success, pinnacle of a Singaporean Student's existence. The paper chase is (possibly) over; the rat race can now rightly be begun in earnest! But so what, so what, so what. It's kinda heavy stuff if you let it get to you - which it did, of course.
So here they were, among others, elements of the good life as the world says they should be - and it all seemed to add up to nothing. All that accomplishment and achievement and it was all just as futile and pointless as the dark days, the dog days. Worse, even. At least in the darkness you want to work towards the light; when you're lost and wandering you harbour hope of being found. When I arrived at the human conception of "success" I found that beyond the peak lay nothing. I remember taking the train out of Exeter, graduation certificate in hand, shape of the mortarboard still impressed upon my hair, and sure it felt good, but it's the overwhelming sense of emptiness I felt on that train which left its imprint on me. What next? Back to Singapore, back to work, back to family and friends. But what next?
Well. Thank God for God. 2014 ended up with me poised on the brink of something big and scary and exciting all the same time. Thank God for empowering leaders - and the insane faith that God has in me too, despite all the times I've messed up, all my failures as a "leader", all the times I've managed to stray from the path. Amazing grace. Unearned, unmerited, undeserved.
The opportunity to co-lead a group during the young adults' retreat was such a ridiculous, miraculous one - one that I really can't help but thank God for. It was pretty scary, and I had to learn necessary lessons in trust, in submission, in humility before and even during the retreat. The fear of failure, of rejection, feelings of inadequacy, unpreparedness, etc. It meant that I had to step out. Step up. Grow up.
And I reaaaaaaallly didn't want to have to. At some level I was pretty happy with the status quo, with staying in the background, with weekends binge watching movies and TV shows, playing dota, being careless and callous. Why would I want to take up responsibility, take on pressure? Except that I knew I had to, too. So God places me here (where I'd never thought I'd be) and it turns out to be the right place at the right time, and maybe I'm not quite the right person - but God will mould me to be just that. I have to learn how to let God work through my insecurities, and stop allowing myself to use them as excuses to not do what He's called me to do.
So I've managed to learn so much about community, what it means to love and be loved, about joy and peace and rest, and perhaps even had glimpses into servanthood and leadership. All in the past 2 or 3 months. Sacrifice, too. About what it means to put the Kingdom of God before the other things in life - a painful lesson; a precious one. One I'm still learning everyday. Really crucial lessons at this juncture in my life, a season for growth, of learning what it truly means to be a man of God. To be a disciple of Jesus.
You know what people say: Growing up sucks. And part of me still believes that, still wants to cling on to youth - nay, immaturity. Still wants to be beholden only to myself and to myself alone. Duty-free, obligation-less. The easy life. But by no means the good life. I think I've learnt enough over the past few weeks and months to say with conviction that no, I shall not again choose the easy life. Not at the expense of the life God wants me to have.
And maybe this path will alienate some people. I've always taken a measure of pride in being pretty savvy, pretty worldly. A man of the world, if you will. I thought that was not too shabby. Maybe one of the reasons I've found it so difficult to go all out for God is that I always kinda think: I'm not half bad myself, right? Maybe so and maybe no, but even that's not enough. Not anymore. And so maybe this will seem completely weird and strange to people, but I guess a line's gotta be drawn somewhere, and this is it. This is where I lay everything down and say "Father God, all that I have, all that I am, I give to You. Take me as I am. Use me as You will. No holding back. Let's go!"
So let the world spin madly on. I will be still and know that You are God. Days shall pass, seasons will change. Years go by, life goes on. And through it all I know that You will be with me, that You love me so. So let me run, run!
Wednesday, 19 November 2014
A Wild Wind Blowing Down The Corner Of My Street.
So it feels like the Northeast Monsoon is beginning to set in now - light to strong (almost 15-20kn!) winds from NE - ENE, and generally wetter conditions observed. Incidence of isolated thunderstorms should start dipping as the intermonsoon period grinds itself to an end. An end to the hot, stuffy days of intense heat and equally intense thunderstorms!
Time to prepare my alternative career as a weatherman now, to prune and preen in front of a camera day in day out, oh what a dream come true that would be! In all seriousness, though, what a relief it is to be back where you get to hear honest-to-goodness thunderclaps and see lightning rend the sky. I heard one instance of thunder in 3 years in the UK, which is not something I ever thought about until I finally heard it one day and was stunned to my very core. Fine rain, light rain, cold rain, no rain thanks be to God! Talk about uninteresting weather... We literally did talk about the uninteresting weather a lot more than was healthy perhaps sigh. I miss the place.
A little strange how just as winter is probably picking up back there shades of autumn start appearing here. Kinda glad to have this seafronting accommodation I can dubiously call "home" now to enjoy this slightly more habitable weather.
And so, life. Wild winds. Picks you up and drops you just as suddenly. Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore.. When life's lemons give you AIDS or whatever, eh? When life's lemons do not give you aid, you just gotta suck it. Okay so maybe trying to think up variations on that adage is not nearly as fruitful (pun not even intended) a way to spend my time as it really should be.
The one unintended and much welcome effect of my long voyages to and from work has been the much needed time to read. Probably some of the only protected time I have to indulge in that most ancient art, and it is while I am in the midst of jostling with hundreds of people on the train. Life really does afford way too many distractions, especially in the way of the Internet. Why is it so hard to unglue oneself from the screen even when you know your time could probably be better spent any other way? Ah, an old lament to be sure.
This time on the MRT also lets me think, between pages, between books. How hard is it to find time to think these days? I go back home and I start watching stuff and waiting just for sleep to claim me. I go to work and wait just to go back home again. Which is kinda why I actually cherish days like this where I stay-in and have some sort of time, just as long as I forcefully unplug myself from my phone, from the internet.
Anyhow, here it is. The collected jumbles of thoughts and observations from the daily commute.
___________________________________
He came to a stop, suddenly confused, suddenly hearing what the man was saying.
"First rate stuff bro! Genuine one, no bluff."
Who are we? Who lies to passersby on an everyday basis in order to... what, turn a profit?
"It's just business bro."
No, he wanted no business in this world of just business.
___________________________________
He couldn't hear himself think. It was the city, all the friction of contact with all these people living in close proximity, all those silent abrasions, noisy encounters.
The seething writhing raging mass of the masses.
___________________________________
It was hard to dream with all that baggage. Baggage: the homogenized past and present of our youth.
The stifled dreams, normalized hopes. How hard is it now to imagine someone dreaming of a different future? A dream of his/her own, not merely that of the petty bourgeoisie, culturally ingrained, inherited from a generation desperate to not fail and therefore afraid to dream.
It is no dream, these not-dreams. Not-poor. Not-lacking. Not-a-failure. Not-sad. Not-childless. Not-lonely.
___________________________________
The sunset was particularly beautiful today, and we stopped, just like that, a five minute lull where we stopped thinking about work, the car, the mortgage.
We all know each day has the potential for boundless beauty, that hurtling at a speed of one thousand miles an hour about the axis of this earth and sixty-seven thousand miles an hour through space we are bound to meet something interesting along the way. But we choose to forget.
What's been buried even deeper is that people, too, are capable of great beauty. Yes, this seething writhing mass.
Maybe we never did want to bury all this knowledge, but we never had a choice, did we. Slowly we are smothered by this world, beautiful as it may be, by all the debris, the flotsam and jetsam of the various wrecks we've made of our lives. Until we die while still alive, screaming silently into our indifferent graves.
Until and unless we stop to see the sunset, to see each other, again.
___________________________________
Never so shockingly alive as when he stepped fresh off the plane, nor so desperately alone.
___________________________________
And if you, too, think these thoughts, then welcome! Welcome to being human.
___________________________________
Have a good night then, y'all.
Oh love, don't let me go
Won't you take me where the street lights glow?
I can hear rain coming like a serenade of sound
Now my feet won't touch the ground
Time to prepare my alternative career as a weatherman now, to prune and preen in front of a camera day in day out, oh what a dream come true that would be! In all seriousness, though, what a relief it is to be back where you get to hear honest-to-goodness thunderclaps and see lightning rend the sky. I heard one instance of thunder in 3 years in the UK, which is not something I ever thought about until I finally heard it one day and was stunned to my very core. Fine rain, light rain, cold rain, no rain thanks be to God! Talk about uninteresting weather... We literally did talk about the uninteresting weather a lot more than was healthy perhaps sigh. I miss the place.
A little strange how just as winter is probably picking up back there shades of autumn start appearing here. Kinda glad to have this seafronting accommodation I can dubiously call "home" now to enjoy this slightly more habitable weather.
And so, life. Wild winds. Picks you up and drops you just as suddenly. Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore.. When life's lemons give you AIDS or whatever, eh? When life's lemons do not give you aid, you just gotta suck it. Okay so maybe trying to think up variations on that adage is not nearly as fruitful (pun not even intended) a way to spend my time as it really should be.
The one unintended and much welcome effect of my long voyages to and from work has been the much needed time to read. Probably some of the only protected time I have to indulge in that most ancient art, and it is while I am in the midst of jostling with hundreds of people on the train. Life really does afford way too many distractions, especially in the way of the Internet. Why is it so hard to unglue oneself from the screen even when you know your time could probably be better spent any other way? Ah, an old lament to be sure.
This time on the MRT also lets me think, between pages, between books. How hard is it to find time to think these days? I go back home and I start watching stuff and waiting just for sleep to claim me. I go to work and wait just to go back home again. Which is kinda why I actually cherish days like this where I stay-in and have some sort of time, just as long as I forcefully unplug myself from my phone, from the internet.
Anyhow, here it is. The collected jumbles of thoughts and observations from the daily commute.
___________________________________
He came to a stop, suddenly confused, suddenly hearing what the man was saying.
"First rate stuff bro! Genuine one, no bluff."
Who are we? Who lies to passersby on an everyday basis in order to... what, turn a profit?
"It's just business bro."
No, he wanted no business in this world of just business.
___________________________________
He couldn't hear himself think. It was the city, all the friction of contact with all these people living in close proximity, all those silent abrasions, noisy encounters.
The seething writhing raging mass of the masses.
___________________________________
It was hard to dream with all that baggage. Baggage: the homogenized past and present of our youth.
The stifled dreams, normalized hopes. How hard is it now to imagine someone dreaming of a different future? A dream of his/her own, not merely that of the petty bourgeoisie, culturally ingrained, inherited from a generation desperate to not fail and therefore afraid to dream.
It is no dream, these not-dreams. Not-poor. Not-lacking. Not-a-failure. Not-sad. Not-childless. Not-lonely.
___________________________________
The sunset was particularly beautiful today, and we stopped, just like that, a five minute lull where we stopped thinking about work, the car, the mortgage.
We all know each day has the potential for boundless beauty, that hurtling at a speed of one thousand miles an hour about the axis of this earth and sixty-seven thousand miles an hour through space we are bound to meet something interesting along the way. But we choose to forget.
What's been buried even deeper is that people, too, are capable of great beauty. Yes, this seething writhing mass.
Maybe we never did want to bury all this knowledge, but we never had a choice, did we. Slowly we are smothered by this world, beautiful as it may be, by all the debris, the flotsam and jetsam of the various wrecks we've made of our lives. Until we die while still alive, screaming silently into our indifferent graves.
Until and unless we stop to see the sunset, to see each other, again.
___________________________________
Never so shockingly alive as when he stepped fresh off the plane, nor so desperately alone.
___________________________________
And if you, too, think these thoughts, then welcome! Welcome to being human.
___________________________________
Have a good night then, y'all.
Oh love, don't let me go
Won't you take me where the street lights glow?
I can hear rain coming like a serenade of sound
Now my feet won't touch the ground
Tuesday, 4 November 2014
To Guide Me Home.
When you get what you want but not what you need; stuck in reverse.
How frustrating it is. To know what I want and what I need and that no, they are not the same no matter how much I may wish otherwise. Ignite my bones indeed! It's strange to feel so helpless, futile, and strangely swept along... I've kinda grown to almost relish it, even. The predicaments you almost wish you never get out of. Ah, well - we'll see things out, somehow.
Quite apart from all that, life recently has been serving up much of the same dishes - work, predominantly and unfortunately (although fortune probably hasn't got all that much to do with anything) and friends, thankfully! Healthy doses of squash involved too, and quite a lot more beer drinking than I'd have expected of myself..
Good thing that professionally, at least, things have been going rather well I guess. Feel like I am currently at or almost at where I have to be right now - at least I'm pulling my weight. Even as I am typing here at 12.30am while my friends are working into the night haha.
I've had this odd sense of.. displacement ever since returning back home. What did I return to, after all? A career, family, friends, the future? That's what I'd begun to think in my final year - finally I'm going back home and resuming life once again! And so here I am. And? Sometimes it feels as if I'm running as best I can, but without realizing it I have led myself onto a treadmill, into a cage on a mousewheel. I'm not sure I fit in anywhere, anymore. Permanently transient. It's almost like something that's been cut out and stitched back - it's never going to be the way it was again. And perhaps that's the way it has to be. I guess I am figuring out what exactly it is I should be doing, what I want to do, all that jazz, except I feel waaaaay too fatigued to do it. Like all I do is get by, get by, get by. 3 short-long months and what have I to say of myself?
Okay dokes ta-ta all, then.
How frustrating it is. To know what I want and what I need and that no, they are not the same no matter how much I may wish otherwise. Ignite my bones indeed! It's strange to feel so helpless, futile, and strangely swept along... I've kinda grown to almost relish it, even. The predicaments you almost wish you never get out of. Ah, well - we'll see things out, somehow.
Quite apart from all that, life recently has been serving up much of the same dishes - work, predominantly and unfortunately (although fortune probably hasn't got all that much to do with anything) and friends, thankfully! Healthy doses of squash involved too, and quite a lot more beer drinking than I'd have expected of myself..
Good thing that professionally, at least, things have been going rather well I guess. Feel like I am currently at or almost at where I have to be right now - at least I'm pulling my weight. Even as I am typing here at 12.30am while my friends are working into the night haha.
I've had this odd sense of.. displacement ever since returning back home. What did I return to, after all? A career, family, friends, the future? That's what I'd begun to think in my final year - finally I'm going back home and resuming life once again! And so here I am. And? Sometimes it feels as if I'm running as best I can, but without realizing it I have led myself onto a treadmill, into a cage on a mousewheel. I'm not sure I fit in anywhere, anymore. Permanently transient. It's almost like something that's been cut out and stitched back - it's never going to be the way it was again. And perhaps that's the way it has to be. I guess I am figuring out what exactly it is I should be doing, what I want to do, all that jazz, except I feel waaaaay too fatigued to do it. Like all I do is get by, get by, get by. 3 short-long months and what have I to say of myself?
Okay dokes ta-ta all, then.
Saturday, 20 September 2014
A Gift Of Mornings.
Well yes, I know, kinda cheesy post title (Charles De Yan, or Chuan Dickens..) but waddya know - the only reason I'm even trying to blog today is that I feel like I haven't actually used my brain for a while now. Once you're BFG (Back For Good) there's just too many ways to procrastinate, to tell yourself that okay next week I'll find some time to sit and write, to tinker about with my diary, to actually use any portion of my brain at all. But noooo, there's too much admin to be done, a myriad errands and tasks or plain lazing around thanks to the full blown fatigue of full time work. Quite apart from work (which is going decently all things considered), I have quite possibly done nothing of value at all over the 3 weeks since I've been back.
So, not that this is going to be of much worth either, but at least I have to give myself a chance to flex a wee bit of my cognitive functions.
Chronologically, I guess, was grad trip, followed by graduation. Too much really to cover, and previous posts on previous trips have borne out the fact that I am a horrible accountant i.e. my accounts of my travels have never failed to fail to inspire. Triple negatives, how's that for some random brainwork? I did cross entire continents, from the Nordic city of Oslo through Moscow, Lake Baikal, Beijing, and more, to Shanghai, a grand total of 8 time-zones crossings and a resultant seriously messed up body clock. The adherence to rail time instead of real time along the Transsiberian, the thousands of miles on the road, and much more too. Absolutely incredible stuff.
Graduation was, of course, surreal. It was odd to realize how many of the people at the ceremonies I'd have been seeing for the last time, possibly, forever. Bittersweet in the extreme. One, I guess, of the tradeoffs of studying in a foreign land. Exeter, too, unfortunately is not a place I am likely to revisit anytime soon, not least because a large majority of the people I have gotten to know there are likewise leaving it for good now. It did turn out eventually to be a massive photoshoot kind of, and I am immensely grateful to bel for gracing the occasion and graciously agreeing (tacitly) to be photographer of the day too! Wish I could attend yours come January!
Flew back via a circuitous route through Manila, a complete waste of time but not of money (the savings! why my return flight is not paid for I will never know). and went to work the very next day. Extremely rusty and almost starting from ground zero (again), it's been quite the learning process. And a good one too.
My grandma passed away last week, after almost 2 weeks of drifting in and out of consciousness having been admitted to the hospital for a fever. I guess everyone saw it coming, and my uncles/cousins even flew in from overseas to see her. It's a minor miracle she survived long enough to see all but 2 of her family/descendants.
It's a strange one. I was never close to her. Truth be told, I didn't like her all that much. All my life (or at least those that I retain sufficient memory of) she's been telling me to study hard, get a good job, and earn a ton of money. Emphasis on that final point. Which has been kind of grating at times. It's only been the last 3 years when I started visiting her at the hospital or nursing home that I interacted properly with her at all, although even till the very end I think she believed I was gonna end up as some high-flying ass-busting lawyer or something. I don't think that's gonna happen!
But no matter what she may or may not have meant to me, I realize how much losing her means to my dad. I cannot imagine what it must have felt like for him, not least because I felt nowhere near as keenly the loss. What grief I felt I felt for my dad, a man who's lost both parents, a brother and a sister, all in the last 5 years.
With this as backdrop, the first time I visited my grandma upon returning to Singapore last month I thought these thoughts, whether appropriately or not:
Hospital bed:
Hey how are you hope
You are well
Or do I?
How easy it is to pretend we love
We fake our concern our care
For the possibly loved
The potentially not
Honest deceit.
Death bed:
Eulogy
Desperately
Sieving memory
For the good stuff
But the muck comes up too
Keep a straight face look serious
Say something profound
Lie.
NB: This is an abstraction, much of which I have just thought up just now, and has nothing to do with my grandma's hospitalization and funeral, except inasmuch as it provided the setting for me to think these thoughts. Not very good ones, mind you, completely unpolished, no cadence or anything whatsoever, just an outlet. A beginning, perhaps, to a return to form sometime soon hopefully!
Some other stuff going on too, that I am keen on thinking about, but it is 1:22am and another day of waking up at 5.20 beckons and I am pretty much already screwed sigh, but I shall at least try to mitigate some of my deadness by going to bed right now.
So, not that this is going to be of much worth either, but at least I have to give myself a chance to flex a wee bit of my cognitive functions.
Chronologically, I guess, was grad trip, followed by graduation. Too much really to cover, and previous posts on previous trips have borne out the fact that I am a horrible accountant i.e. my accounts of my travels have never failed to fail to inspire. Triple negatives, how's that for some random brainwork? I did cross entire continents, from the Nordic city of Oslo through Moscow, Lake Baikal, Beijing, and more, to Shanghai, a grand total of 8 time-zones crossings and a resultant seriously messed up body clock. The adherence to rail time instead of real time along the Transsiberian, the thousands of miles on the road, and much more too. Absolutely incredible stuff.
Graduation was, of course, surreal. It was odd to realize how many of the people at the ceremonies I'd have been seeing for the last time, possibly, forever. Bittersweet in the extreme. One, I guess, of the tradeoffs of studying in a foreign land. Exeter, too, unfortunately is not a place I am likely to revisit anytime soon, not least because a large majority of the people I have gotten to know there are likewise leaving it for good now. It did turn out eventually to be a massive photoshoot kind of, and I am immensely grateful to bel for gracing the occasion and graciously agreeing (tacitly) to be photographer of the day too! Wish I could attend yours come January!
Flew back via a circuitous route through Manila, a complete waste of time but not of money (the savings! why my return flight is not paid for I will never know). and went to work the very next day. Extremely rusty and almost starting from ground zero (again), it's been quite the learning process. And a good one too.
My grandma passed away last week, after almost 2 weeks of drifting in and out of consciousness having been admitted to the hospital for a fever. I guess everyone saw it coming, and my uncles/cousins even flew in from overseas to see her. It's a minor miracle she survived long enough to see all but 2 of her family/descendants.
It's a strange one. I was never close to her. Truth be told, I didn't like her all that much. All my life (or at least those that I retain sufficient memory of) she's been telling me to study hard, get a good job, and earn a ton of money. Emphasis on that final point. Which has been kind of grating at times. It's only been the last 3 years when I started visiting her at the hospital or nursing home that I interacted properly with her at all, although even till the very end I think she believed I was gonna end up as some high-flying ass-busting lawyer or something. I don't think that's gonna happen!
But no matter what she may or may not have meant to me, I realize how much losing her means to my dad. I cannot imagine what it must have felt like for him, not least because I felt nowhere near as keenly the loss. What grief I felt I felt for my dad, a man who's lost both parents, a brother and a sister, all in the last 5 years.
With this as backdrop, the first time I visited my grandma upon returning to Singapore last month I thought these thoughts, whether appropriately or not:
Hospital bed:
Hey how are you hope
You are well
Or do I?
How easy it is to pretend we love
We fake our concern our care
For the possibly loved
The potentially not
Honest deceit.
Death bed:
Eulogy
Desperately
Sieving memory
For the good stuff
But the muck comes up too
Keep a straight face look serious
Say something profound
Lie.
NB: This is an abstraction, much of which I have just thought up just now, and has nothing to do with my grandma's hospitalization and funeral, except inasmuch as it provided the setting for me to think these thoughts. Not very good ones, mind you, completely unpolished, no cadence or anything whatsoever, just an outlet. A beginning, perhaps, to a return to form sometime soon hopefully!
Some other stuff going on too, that I am keen on thinking about, but it is 1:22am and another day of waking up at 5.20 beckons and I am pretty much already screwed sigh, but I shall at least try to mitigate some of my deadness by going to bed right now.
Sunday, 7 September 2014
Let This Be Finished! Dead! ...Khattam-Shud.
Longest weekend I've had since flying back more than a month ago! But not one that I wanted. A disappointing turn, really. Supposed to close up for duty on Friday but didn't quite manage to pass my assessment, quite the blow both for myself and my poor friend on duty that day. It's a bit upsetting - I know I could and should have passed. "But no matter - tomorrow we will run faster, spread out our arms farther."
Think it's the secret, hidden (or not-so-hidden) ultra-lame-hipster part of me that makes me prefer that line over the actual closing line of The Great Gatsby. I think I've seen that one too often before even having read that book, and it probably featured in some "Best first/last lines in history of ever by super authors" or something. Don't get me wrong, it's a very fine line (pun not actually intended teehee)."So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." I was probably just grasping for something less well-known to latch myself on to. Ah, this post-modern life. How can what one likes/dislikes be governed by what others/strangers/masses like or dislike?
Apart from that diatribe on the quite bitter disappointment of Friday (and o how I underperformed) I've also faced some professional or indeed, absolutely unprofessional challenges. A bit of a rant, but I can't stomach having to do menial, brain dead taskings just because someone else refuses to put in that extra bit of work. I am willing to help for sure, I don't mind going out of my way to do so, but not in order for you to further your own social life/whatever other commitments. I'm not ending work late just so that you can secure on time - and it's not the work ending late that's the issue. I guess everyone at any workplace in the world experiences such things or such people, but that doesn't lessen the frustration anyways. Some people are just so oblivious/indifferent it hurts to interact with them.
Speaking of which... Maybe it is time to let things die a natural death i.e. let me no longer seek artificially to prolong. Khattam-Shud. It is strange how much... hope one pins on certain things so completely out of one's control. (Actually, if you're particularly optimistic, you might begin to think that you do have a measure of influence after all, but let us not consider that in this case.) It is odd how much one invests in so little. A wing and a prayer. But no more games. "Be careful what you wish for", I think I just read Haroun advise Luka in Rushdie's Luka and the Fire of Life - and how often do we as adults fail to heed just such advice, expounded in countless fairy-tales and fables? We never learn, or we never want to - because some wishes are worth wishing for, worth waiting for, worth wilting for, come what may, who can say.
But not this wish. Not at the fervent urgings of a stray note from Sgt. Pepper's esteemed band - the Beatles be damned. Sometimes the why of a wish matters more than the what of a wish. And if the former is suspect then the latter is inconsequential, a matter that does not matter. Why I'm going on at length here is because... because I know this to be true. But I have trouble believing it. Ah, when you know something but cannot bring yourself to believe it! That's when you know that wings have taken root, taken flight, somewhere in that gnarled twisted multi-valved organ. Oh yes, that inseparable burden, this life-giving soul-consuming organ we cannot help but need this side of forever. But that organ beats on, a boat against the current, and yet the past, the past.
And on to the inconsequential. I've had the good pleasure of reading The Great Gatsby, Haroun and the Sea of Stories, and Timequake. Fitzgerald, Rushdie, Vonnegut. Almost feel like a participant in some box-ticking exercise (perhaps I should stop railing against those sometime soon.) Excellent reads though, all of them, most intriguing of all Timequake, that intoxicating blend of autobiography and fiction, so smooth you can never tell where one ends and where one begins, or indeed, if any of it is at all real in the first place. Also came across the new Murakami book (be still my heart! and indeed it was still because) I did not buy, only because I had already in my arms $290 worth of books at that most charming of bookshops - Litteredwithbooks! Never seem able to leave that place without at least 5 books or so sigh yay sigh.
Also watched Sin City, kind of just a rinse and repeat almost of the first one, but stylish nonetheless. Not likely to make any new fans though, I don't think. Whatever worked for the first one worked for the first one, so I'm not sure what people were expecting A Dame to Kill For to be. And An Education again, for the first time since.. 09? 10? Carey Mulligan everything I remembered her to be, and more. Gush fanboy gush. Missed Begin Again and have this creeping sensation I'm missing Boyhood soon too, but hopefully I'll have a lenient enough week that I am able to catch that ridiculous timing of 9pm or so at Cineleisure. Taxis galore apparently, once you find yourself in the working world. Oh glamour where art thou. Seems as if I'm rushing everywhere only in order to be able to rush somewhere else. Where are my soirees and lounges and posh-ass adult things?
And that is the end of that, Eggheads. Khattam-Shud.
Think it's the secret, hidden (or not-so-hidden) ultra-lame-hipster part of me that makes me prefer that line over the actual closing line of The Great Gatsby. I think I've seen that one too often before even having read that book, and it probably featured in some "Best first/last lines in history of ever by super authors" or something. Don't get me wrong, it's a very fine line (pun not actually intended teehee)."So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." I was probably just grasping for something less well-known to latch myself on to. Ah, this post-modern life. How can what one likes/dislikes be governed by what others/strangers/masses like or dislike?
Apart from that diatribe on the quite bitter disappointment of Friday (and o how I underperformed) I've also faced some professional or indeed, absolutely unprofessional challenges. A bit of a rant, but I can't stomach having to do menial, brain dead taskings just because someone else refuses to put in that extra bit of work. I am willing to help for sure, I don't mind going out of my way to do so, but not in order for you to further your own social life/whatever other commitments. I'm not ending work late just so that you can secure on time - and it's not the work ending late that's the issue. I guess everyone at any workplace in the world experiences such things or such people, but that doesn't lessen the frustration anyways. Some people are just so oblivious/indifferent it hurts to interact with them.
Speaking of which... Maybe it is time to let things die a natural death i.e. let me no longer seek artificially to prolong. Khattam-Shud. It is strange how much... hope one pins on certain things so completely out of one's control. (Actually, if you're particularly optimistic, you might begin to think that you do have a measure of influence after all, but let us not consider that in this case.) It is odd how much one invests in so little. A wing and a prayer. But no more games. "Be careful what you wish for", I think I just read Haroun advise Luka in Rushdie's Luka and the Fire of Life - and how often do we as adults fail to heed just such advice, expounded in countless fairy-tales and fables? We never learn, or we never want to - because some wishes are worth wishing for, worth waiting for, worth wilting for, come what may, who can say.
But not this wish. Not at the fervent urgings of a stray note from Sgt. Pepper's esteemed band - the Beatles be damned. Sometimes the why of a wish matters more than the what of a wish. And if the former is suspect then the latter is inconsequential, a matter that does not matter. Why I'm going on at length here is because... because I know this to be true. But I have trouble believing it. Ah, when you know something but cannot bring yourself to believe it! That's when you know that wings have taken root, taken flight, somewhere in that gnarled twisted multi-valved organ. Oh yes, that inseparable burden, this life-giving soul-consuming organ we cannot help but need this side of forever. But that organ beats on, a boat against the current, and yet the past, the past.
And on to the inconsequential. I've had the good pleasure of reading The Great Gatsby, Haroun and the Sea of Stories, and Timequake. Fitzgerald, Rushdie, Vonnegut. Almost feel like a participant in some box-ticking exercise (perhaps I should stop railing against those sometime soon.) Excellent reads though, all of them, most intriguing of all Timequake, that intoxicating blend of autobiography and fiction, so smooth you can never tell where one ends and where one begins, or indeed, if any of it is at all real in the first place. Also came across the new Murakami book (be still my heart! and indeed it was still because) I did not buy, only because I had already in my arms $290 worth of books at that most charming of bookshops - Litteredwithbooks! Never seem able to leave that place without at least 5 books or so sigh yay sigh.
Also watched Sin City, kind of just a rinse and repeat almost of the first one, but stylish nonetheless. Not likely to make any new fans though, I don't think. Whatever worked for the first one worked for the first one, so I'm not sure what people were expecting A Dame to Kill For to be. And An Education again, for the first time since.. 09? 10? Carey Mulligan everything I remembered her to be, and more. Gush fanboy gush. Missed Begin Again and have this creeping sensation I'm missing Boyhood soon too, but hopefully I'll have a lenient enough week that I am able to catch that ridiculous timing of 9pm or so at Cineleisure. Taxis galore apparently, once you find yourself in the working world. Oh glamour where art thou. Seems as if I'm rushing everywhere only in order to be able to rush somewhere else. Where are my soirees and lounges and posh-ass adult things?
And that is the end of that, Eggheads. Khattam-Shud.
Wednesday, 13 August 2014
Grad Expectations.
Well yes, I know, kinda cheesy post title (Charles De Yan, or Chuan Dickens..) but waddya know - the only reason I'm even trying to blog today is that I feel like I haven't actually used my brain for a while now. Once you're BFG (Back For Good) there's just too many ways to procrastinate, to tell yourself that okay next week I'll find some time to sit and write, to tinker about with my diary, to actually use any portion of my brain at all. But noooo, there's too much admin to be done, a myriad errands and tasks or plain lazing around thanks to the full blown fatigue of full time work. Quite apart from work (which is going decently all things considered), I have quite possibly done nothing of value at all over the 3 weeks since I've been back.
So, not that this is going to be of much worth either, but at least I have to give myself a chance to flex a wee bit of my cognitive functions.
Chronologically, I guess, was grad trip, followed by graduation. Too much really to cover, and previous posts on previous trips have borne out the fact that I am a horrible accountant i.e. my accounts of my travels have never failed to fail to inspire. Triple negatives, how's that for some random brainwork? I did cross entire continents, from the Nordic city of Oslo through Moscow, Lake Baikal, Beijing, and more, to Shanghai, a grand total of 8 time-zones crossings and a resultant seriously messed up body clock. The adherence to rail time instead of real time along the Transsiberian, the thousands of miles on the road, and much more too. Absolutely incredible stuff.
Graduation was, of course, surreal. It was odd to realize how many of the people at the ceremonies I'd have been seeing for the last time, possibly, forever. Bittersweet in the extreme. One, I guess, of the tradeoffs of studying in a foreign land. Exeter, too, unfortunately is not a place I am likely to revisit anytime soon, not least because a large majority of the people I have gotten to know there are likewise leaving it for good now. It did turn out eventually to be a massive photoshoot kind of, and I am immensely grateful to bel for gracing the occasion and graciously agreeing (tacitly) to be photographer of the day too! Wish I could attend yours come January!
Flew back via a circuitous route through Manila, a complete waste of time but not of money (the savings! why my return flight is not paid for I will never know). and went to work the very next day. Extremely rusty and almost starting from ground zero (again), it's been quite the learning process. And a good one too.
My grandma passed away last week, after almost 2 weeks of drifting in and out of consciousness having been admitted to the hospital for a fever. I guess everyone saw it coming, and my uncles/cousins even flew in from overseas to see her. It's a minor miracle she survived long enough to see all but 2 of her family/descendants.
It's a strange one. I was never close to her. Truth be told, I didn't like her all that much. All my life (or at least those that I retain sufficient memory of) she's been telling me to study hard, get a good job, and earn a ton of money. Emphasis on that final point. Which has been kind of grating at times. It's only been the last 3 years when I started visiting her at the hospital or nursing home that I interacted properly with her at all, although even till the very end I think she believed I was gonna end up as some high-flying ass-busting lawyer or something. I don't think that's gonna happen!
But no matter what she may or may not have meant to me, I realize how much losing her means to my dad. I cannot imagine what it must have felt like for him, not least because I felt nowhere near as keenly the loss. What grief I felt I felt for my dad, a man who's lost both parents, a brother and a sister, all in the last 5 years.
With this as backdrop, the first time I visited my grandma upon returning to Singapore last month I thought these thoughts, whether appropriately or not:
________________________
Hospital bed:
Hey how are you hope
You are well
Or do I?
How easy it is to pretend we love
We fake our concern our care
For the possibly loved
The potentially not
Honest deceit.
Death bed:
Eulogy
Desperately
Sieving memory
For the good stuff
But the muck comes up too
Keep a straight face look serious
Say something profound
Lie.
________________________
NB: This is an abstraction, much of which I have just thought up just now, and has nothing to do with my grandma's hospitalization and funeral, except inasmuch as it provided the setting for me to think these thoughts. Not very good ones, mind you, completely unpolished, no cadence or anything whatsoever, just an outlet. A beginning, perhaps, to a return to form sometime soon hopefully!
Some other stuff going on too, that I am keen on thinking about, but it is 1:22am and another day of waking up at 5.20 beckons and I am pretty much already screwed sigh, but I shall at least try to mitigate some of my deadness by going to bed right now.
So, not that this is going to be of much worth either, but at least I have to give myself a chance to flex a wee bit of my cognitive functions.
Chronologically, I guess, was grad trip, followed by graduation. Too much really to cover, and previous posts on previous trips have borne out the fact that I am a horrible accountant i.e. my accounts of my travels have never failed to fail to inspire. Triple negatives, how's that for some random brainwork? I did cross entire continents, from the Nordic city of Oslo through Moscow, Lake Baikal, Beijing, and more, to Shanghai, a grand total of 8 time-zones crossings and a resultant seriously messed up body clock. The adherence to rail time instead of real time along the Transsiberian, the thousands of miles on the road, and much more too. Absolutely incredible stuff.
Graduation was, of course, surreal. It was odd to realize how many of the people at the ceremonies I'd have been seeing for the last time, possibly, forever. Bittersweet in the extreme. One, I guess, of the tradeoffs of studying in a foreign land. Exeter, too, unfortunately is not a place I am likely to revisit anytime soon, not least because a large majority of the people I have gotten to know there are likewise leaving it for good now. It did turn out eventually to be a massive photoshoot kind of, and I am immensely grateful to bel for gracing the occasion and graciously agreeing (tacitly) to be photographer of the day too! Wish I could attend yours come January!
Flew back via a circuitous route through Manila, a complete waste of time but not of money (the savings! why my return flight is not paid for I will never know). and went to work the very next day. Extremely rusty and almost starting from ground zero (again), it's been quite the learning process. And a good one too.
My grandma passed away last week, after almost 2 weeks of drifting in and out of consciousness having been admitted to the hospital for a fever. I guess everyone saw it coming, and my uncles/cousins even flew in from overseas to see her. It's a minor miracle she survived long enough to see all but 2 of her family/descendants.
It's a strange one. I was never close to her. Truth be told, I didn't like her all that much. All my life (or at least those that I retain sufficient memory of) she's been telling me to study hard, get a good job, and earn a ton of money. Emphasis on that final point. Which has been kind of grating at times. It's only been the last 3 years when I started visiting her at the hospital or nursing home that I interacted properly with her at all, although even till the very end I think she believed I was gonna end up as some high-flying ass-busting lawyer or something. I don't think that's gonna happen!
But no matter what she may or may not have meant to me, I realize how much losing her means to my dad. I cannot imagine what it must have felt like for him, not least because I felt nowhere near as keenly the loss. What grief I felt I felt for my dad, a man who's lost both parents, a brother and a sister, all in the last 5 years.
With this as backdrop, the first time I visited my grandma upon returning to Singapore last month I thought these thoughts, whether appropriately or not:
________________________
Hospital bed:
Hey how are you hope
You are well
Or do I?
How easy it is to pretend we love
We fake our concern our care
For the possibly loved
The potentially not
Honest deceit.
Death bed:
Eulogy
Desperately
Sieving memory
For the good stuff
But the muck comes up too
Keep a straight face look serious
Say something profound
Lie.
________________________
NB: This is an abstraction, much of which I have just thought up just now, and has nothing to do with my grandma's hospitalization and funeral, except inasmuch as it provided the setting for me to think these thoughts. Not very good ones, mind you, completely unpolished, no cadence or anything whatsoever, just an outlet. A beginning, perhaps, to a return to form sometime soon hopefully!
Some other stuff going on too, that I am keen on thinking about, but it is 1:22am and another day of waking up at 5.20 beckons and I am pretty much already screwed sigh, but I shall at least try to mitigate some of my deadness by going to bed right now.
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