You're better than you think.

One of the worst feelings ever is when you look into the mirror and you don't like what you see. Your nose could be sharper, your hair could use a little bit of trimming, and your body, oh god your body. Let's not talk about that. You think on your person. You're uncharismatic, socially awkward, you have no talents; you're inadequate. Everyone else is going on better than you are.

But that's you talking to yourself in the mirror. After years of growing up in that honestly beautiful, god-given vessel of yours you've learnt how to efficiently filter out most things good about yourself. Wait, scratch that, most things about yourself, because more often than not there's more good things about yourself than what you're willing to give credit for.

This is a time where you need not be humble. This is a time to be proud of yourself, not to feel inferior to others. You're a dancer, aren't you? Didn't you pick up the guitar recently? Hey, that girl said you were cute the other day. But we tend to forget our own triumphs, giving the merit away to others whom we deem are better than us (whom at this point is practically everyone else, right?). There's a fundamental problem with us people in how we see ourselves. "My flaws + other people's strengths = how much I'm lacking as a person". It's funny when you realise that's how they see you too.

You need to look at yourself the way your friends look at you. When a compliment passes your way, let it digest instead of just dismissing it (but don't let it make your head swell). Take into account that (shockingly) you too actually have something that others envy. Not kidding. Accept what you have to offer, improve on it and take advantage of all those perks. For one thing you lack there's two things you can do better than everyone else, so use what you have instead of wishing for what you don't. It's not possible for someone to be good in everything, but you can damned well try to be the best in whatever you know.

So carry on dancing and practicing for your recital, strum that guitar and sing loud the words of your heart, maybe even approach that girl and tell her you think she's cute too; after all you've got so many things going on for you, you're making me jealous you know.

Sometimes you remember.

Most of the time you try to forget. But sometimes (and it's usually when you're staring at the ceiling, when you're watching the people and the world go by, when your mind's allowed to drift), sometimes you remember.

You listen to a song from years ago; you become the person from years ago. You become your carefree, heartbroken, happy, foolish self again. You were an empty slate; life and pain hadn't etched itself on your skin just yet.

Sometimes you don't want to remember. Your throat tightens, you feel like throwing up. You think on it, ponder at the possibilities, oh the possibilities. How wonderful it would've (more of could've) been. But then you realise you don't know really. Things don't always (and don't usually) turn out the way you expect them to. Just look at yourself now.

Sometimes you remember and you let it get to you. All it does is ruin your day. Suddenly old places, old sights and old smells all shove a horrible familiarity right into your face. You've tried forgetting so, so hard. But when you finally remember it hits you like a train, it bears no subtlety in its arrival. You heave a heavy sigh, shake it out of your head. There's no point remembering. You tell yourself, "forget it, forget it."

But sometimes... Sometimes you lay down, you look up at the sky, and you remember. Your ears twitch at the thought. A small smile finds itself on your face. Suddenly it's a grin, and suddenly you're beaming. You think about how stupid you must look, but you don't care. Nothing in the world's going to stop you from remembering.

Open house.

It feels so strange to return to a place so familiar and yet end up feeling like you don't belong there anymore. It's like returning to your house, your room, with everything still there as you've left it; it's home. And then you look around and realise that the family living in it isn't yours, but that of someone else's.

That's how I felt at open house just now. It was still MJ, it looked the same, but the people there were not, and I realised that I had now become an outsider to a place I called home. The people there could not relate to me, they did not experience what I had, and it is a solemn if disturbing thought to realise that all the tears shed and fun I'd had there were just a passing in a cycle of students to enter and exit. Soon the current batch will graduate, they will return, and I will bet that at least a few would then feel as I do now: A little lonely, with nowhere to 'belong', a little insignificant, a little irrelevant.

I am very proud of our juniors. They keep the spirit up. Though I am not close to the Atlas mass dance team, they were welcoming and friendly, and they remembered and appreciated the AHC's contributions, which made me feel quite warm inside. But my time there is up, and it's time to let the juniors take the reins as the seniors of the school. Besides, you can't see where you're going if you keep your sight locked at what's behind you. I miss MJ more than I did Temasek, but then again I thought I'd never feel at home again out of Temasek, heh.



The rest of the day was well spent, perfectly summed up with a quote from shurui.

"@shurui really glad to have met the people i've missed today :)"

 I guess it's the people that made it home to me, now that I think about it.

Here is a haiku to end the post because haikus are lovely.

Went to open house
I missed the place, so much fun
Then I ate supper





Maybe I'm spiteful cause it's worth the spite, or maybe it's just jealousy.

Stupid responsibilities

The stupid responsibilities of being a post-A's teenager.

I'd want to lay at home all day and slack my butt off, but my dear father refuses to financially support my lifestyle of sloth. Since late-night macs deliveries do not come cheap, naturally I'd have to find myself a job or two.

And boy, did I find myself a job (or two).



I currently am holding two jobs. An office admin day-job, and an overnight manual labour one. Both pay pretty well, at 10/hour and 8/hour respectively. Guess which one I hate more.

The day job's okay, it's menial work but it isn't taxing on anything other than my soul and will to live. My office job is much more stale (is staler a word?); it's just filing and organising papers. If I'm lucky, I get to mix things up a little and maybe photocopy a form or two or two hundred. It's repetitive, if anything. But that's not what I'm here to complain about.



I'm here today to talk about my stupid manual labour job. Words will not do it full justice, but I will try my best.

It's kind of like anti-construction, I'm a deconstruction worker of sorts. My job scope's to remove Christmas decorations and load them onto trucks before disposing of them at some dumping ground. And I'm not talking of tearing down posters or removing fairy lights from railings - I'm talking bringing down all those massive Christmas trees and jingle bells and balls and whatever you see in and around shopping centres. Like the huge ones outside Ion and inside Taka and whatnot. All this while accompanied (and instructed by) a bevy of foreign workers. It's tiring, it's dangerous as hell, and I hate it.

I swear I've almost died more than a few times. One time a crane carrying the metal Christmas tree frame almost hit myself and my colleagues when it swung the frame at us by accident. Another time a hooked pole my Chinese coworker was sporting caught onto my shirt, tore a hole in it and scratched me across the stomach, leaving a temporary scar (and in the middle of Orchard, no less!). Also I've crushed my foot with a wooden board and sustained a long cut on my right thigh. And this is only less than a week in! I've fallen into drains a couple of times too but that's mostly due to my own ineptitude to maintain my balance (read: imma noob :<  ).

 If anything though the characters I meet provide a lot of insight to the tough life of someone with such a shit job. I work only 8 hours and I'm complaining like hell; the regulars work 18 hours a day and they're still going on, strong as steroid-pumped oxes.

Oh schnap

 The stories they tell invoke quite a bit of thinking too. One of my Chinese coworkers was a gangster back in his hometown - he tells me stories about the fights he's been in, the crimes he's committed, and how he's trying to turn over a new leaf by working here and making clean income to support his family and his kids' education back in China. Another coworker, an 18-year old Malaysian guy and one of the few who speak English, left home to try and make it on his own after he graduated from secondary school. He tells me that studying was never his thing, and though he had the opportunities (his family is rich and successful; his two brothers are doctors), he gave up all that to experience the independent life. His money, his own rules, he says. And to think he's been doing this since he was 16 when he first came to Singapore on his own. The others all have their own tales to tell.


All this, and yet they still go on. Maybe I should stop complaining. I have it pretty easy compared to them. I really have to commend them for being able to survive with what's probably the stupidest job in the world.

Okay, so maybe mine isn't that stupid after all.

I should be thankful really, that I don't have to go through all these hardships.










 But I still really wish that my dad would pay for my McSpicy suppers.




and we were dancing like we're made of starlight

In retrospect

I'm a bit late to the party, but I'm here nonetheless. It's been a load of ups and downs in 2012, and I don't know if I've grown in the direction I'd have wanted to. I guess that's what reflections are for. It's the start of the new year, it's the middle of the night, and the night has very much gotten to me, so naturally it has set me thinking.

Thinking back in this current state, I'd have to say that I am sad. I can't ignore the fun I've had this year, but I've talked about all that. What strikes me the most, right now especially, is all the regret I feel.

Regret is a ridiculous emotion. It deals with 'what if' instead of what happened. There's only one way something could have happened, but there's countless more 'what ifs'. For every word said, for every move made; something could have been done differently, and it could (and more likely than not would) lead to vastly different outcomes.

Our nature compels us to imagine and subsequently hope for the best possible outcomes in any and all our endeavours, and when things do not follow these expectations (in a sense), the 'what ifs' come to haunt us, and we regret. Not because something bad happened, but because something good didn't. We forget how to be thankful.

I think hope is a dangerous emotion. It's the precursor to regret, and hope is an emotion that we cannot shake off. As long as we are uncertain of something, we hope for the best, and as I've said, when things don't go our way... Hope lets us see the light in bad situations, but when it's crushed, we come falling down hard.






There are so many things I regret to have done over the course of 2012. I feel silly about it, as my aforementioned sadness arises from what didn't happen instead of what did, and it is silly to be so affected by things and events that do not exist. And yet, here I am, feeling how I feel now.

I regret not studying harder - I am uncertain of what's to come, and it makes me feel uneasy at the thought of it.
I regret saying many of the things I've said - I am not one who thinks much before I speak, and I have said many horrible things to and about people, and no amount of remorse on my part will take those words back.
I regret slipping away from God, willingly even - it was my choice to not go to church in the months preceding A's, and I had had no peace during that time. I find it hard to get back. I am more vulgar now, I am more insensitive, and as much as I want to change back, it is difficult.

I regret not making the effort to grow closer to you guys - now that all is said and done, we barely talk. The last time I have seen all of us together was months ago. We have gone our separate ways, something that I saw coming, and yet I laconically dismissed the thought and did nothing about it.

I regret not hanging on to our friendship tighter - you were one of my closest friends, and yet now I haven't seen you in weeks, and often I find myself talking with Wilfred about you, what you meant to us. But you will not read this, you will not know how much of a brother you were to me, and I cannot do anything about it.

I regret ever telling you about how I felt for you. I should have just kept it to myself and should've never said a thing. Even so, I regret not telling you earlier - I picked the worst time; too little too late.I cannot help but feel guilty about it, even now. Telling you how I felt created that wall between us that made our relationship fall to shambles. You did not trust me as a result of my confession. I felt that you had betrayed me and our relationship. I felt that you had lied to me, that you were not there for me anymore. I felt that I did not know you. I felt it unjust that you did not tell me everything even though I told you my everything. I blamed you. And yet, it was not your fault at all. You were behind the scenes, giving me time to think alone, all while silently making sure that I was okay, though I did not acknowledge that at the time. It was stupid hope that was making me think of more, making me want more. I blamed you for something that did not happen, for things that did not go my way. And for that, I am sorry. I don't know if you will read this, but in the off-chance that you do, remember that you are very special to me.






Though I may be regretful, yet still am I thankful; light shines all the more brighter when it's pitch black.

I am thankful for those who gave me comfort when I needed it; my classmates, my parents, my siblings, my friends.

I am thankful for those whom I know are and call my best friends.

I am thankful for you, Cheryl.
You know me best out of everyone I know. You've seen me at my weakest, you have heard and seen me cry countless times, and you've made me realise how much of a wuss I am when it comes to my emotions. Thankfully, you've helped me learn to control them better. You tell me to man up, and I remember all the advice you've given me. When I am lonely, you make the effort to keep me company, and you make sure that I am okay at the end of the day. You are who I go to when I need company but don't feel like talking, when I feel like not doing anything but not alone. You listen to me whenever I need to vent out any anger, and you do not judge, offering all that I need in a listening ear. You put up with my banter and nonsense almost every single day, and you allow me to truly express myself, to the point where I sometimes wonder why you're still my friend after the shit I put you through. Though we didn't talk for a while in J1 you came back and forgave me for my spite. You have been my friend and confidante for 6 years and counting, and I am thankful for that.

I am thankful for you, Yingting.
You're the one I depend on b. You've given me so much support regardless of whatever trouble I am having, and you've always kept an eye out for me. You are my moral pillar, and as strange as it sounds, I look up to you because of that. You have taught me how to pick myself up from the gutters, and during all the times when I alone cannot do so, you do not hesitate to give me your hand to grasp on to. We put on strong fronts for each other when the other cannot, and you have done so for me countless times. You have reminded me so many times that you're only a call away, and I myself am for you too. You know my insecurities inside and out; you know when and how to quell them. You have taught me what it is like to truly love others, regardless of who they are or what others say of them. Though I mess up sometimes, you never hesitate to forgive and encourage me. I find it strange that you do not fully see the good in yourself, and I often tell you that you need to give yourself more credit, so please do so. For your support and your presence, I am thankful.

I am thankful for you, Wilfred.
You are my brother; You have laughed and cried with me, and you have almost literally been by my side through the past two years; I saw you almost everyday. You have shown me how to live life, how to have fun. Spending time with you was something I looked forward to everyday, be it screwing around or confiding in you, you are there to turn to even when there is nobody else. We do not talk everyday, but whenever we do our friendship resumes like not a minute has passed. Your company lets me release any pent up emotions or stress, and I feel most natural around you. I tell you everything, and I treasure the trust you have in me too. I once thought I knew brotherhood back in secondary school with my guy friends - you had redefined it altogether. Through thick and thin, I know you will be there. Though we do not talk every single moment, I always remember what you say: We have the rest of our lives to be friends. Hopefully we'll both be single when we're 40 so that we can move to California together to get married. You are my brother through and through, and I am thankful for you.





While all the possibilities and the things that I do not have may haunt me, at the very least, I have learnt to treasure what I do have, and that makes me happy.
 
















You know that silence at the end of a phone call, when nobody has hung up yet? You know that little glimmer of... Hope?

I am afraid.