imagining a house in the middle of nowhere/waiting for my Hogwarts letter because i’m so damn sure i am a witch/being your own hero/wanting a jet instead of a car/wanting to expertise in doodling/swinging on swings/walking on sand barefoot/dipping my finger into fresh cream and licking it off/dreaming of pink cows that produces strawberry milk/wanting to go to outer space/think I can go to space right now/playing catch/trying so damn hard not to cry/wanting a macs happy meal toy/wanting EVERY happy meal toy/left hanging/hugging my toy dolphin/left hanging for no apparent reason and all you can do is to constantly wonder what did you do wrong/going to sleep wearing silly hats/sticking out my tongue at everything/trying not to cry no matter how much it hurts/playing horsie on a broom stick/thinking cardboard boxes are the best thing ever coz they can be anything you want them to be/eating only the pink bits in a multicolor cereal coz once upon a time you liked pink/drinking strawberry milk 3times a day/falling in love again and again/missing people/falling in love again & again with the same person/sleeping on grass/puffing hot air on cold glass to doodle/having wishes that all come true/when every twig is a wand/drinking juice outta the carton/blowing soap bubbles/getting choked up by emotions/crying myself silly/leaving & saying hurting goodbyes/being anything you ever wanna to be
Perhaps I should had blogged about this yesterday where the impression would had been more fresh but hey, I didn’t realise the extent of the impact til now. And now that I’m all sleep deprived having just woke up not too long ago…
Am still disgusted.
Indulge me & tag along in this lil play of mine. & ykw what they say about the stage; it mimicks real life.
There was a scene staged by the Little People recently. & I daresay, it was not half bad. I could tell there was much thought put into it albeit execution was on a whole different scale. Some ideas fell right flat, I wonder if they know. And if they will learn. Sure hope so.
Something perplexs me. Something that always had. I’m still one of those people who gets upset when people use the word, “fag”. And believe me, in this play, I’m one of the rare characters that do. I hate how people make homosexual references. They’re not something to be made fun of. Which is why I was very disgusted by what was meant to be the highlight of the performance done by the Little People. That was certainly not dancing. That, was overboard.
Our neighbour did something that was equally mind-boggling. I didn’t find the drag amusing; I found it insulting. As a female, I’m disgusted. As a human being, I find it so awfully tasteless. As an audience, I am depressed by how these people have to stoop to such low-class humour.
But really, had they been able to put up think of something more classy, can they pull it off? & would they, for the question then becomes would the crowd get it?
I am confused. I am disgusted. I can’t stand how crude some things can morph into in this place. As the curtain falls for this act of their performance, I wish they would learn & absorb something useful from this & rehearse something better for their next act.
Which I am no longer looking forward to because now I am too busy counting down to the day I can flee from this place. To somewhere perhaps more mature, to somewhere where I will laugh at things genuinely funny, where I can speak openly.
Then again, maybe I’m just being a judgemental prude. Maybe I’m he narrow-minded one who can understand your humour, your acts. I’m sorry, I tend to be awfully slow.
K that’s it, school’s about to start. Imma keep quiet now.
11:59pm, it is really the end of my very long day.
Shall post about Orientation another time. Right now I just don’t have the right emotions or energy for such a post.
“I’m not being a pushover when you (generic) do things that upset me but I let them go, when you make me feel betrayed but I don’t confront you, when your actions and words are inconsistent but I remind myself you’re only human. My silence is me fighting for you. Because protecting you, your peace of mind, your feelings, your pride, are more important than me standing up for myself.”
Reading that was the most inappropriate coincidence ever. Now I can’t sleep because I’m too busy looking for answers. Stolen glances that I couldn’t help. Just made me realised how after all this time, I am not better. And now I ask myself if you are still someone I want to protect, someone I want to shield from harm, someone I would fight for.
To be honest, I just don’t want to think about this anymore. I can’t help myself (Would you blame me for that?) I don’t think I possess what it takes to hurt you as well and if I had wanted to stand for myself, I should had done so a long time ago. I don’t want to fight anymore I’m exhausted. And whatever energy I have left to cope with this has been sapped about by the ghouls of this fresh distant memory. You had been someone so important. Very. And why wouldn’t you be? You are beautiful and ever so charming and I daresay I painted you a shade of perfect with my naive imagination (another prize you stole) And why wouldn’t I? You probably still are. Despite your corrupt personality and lack of morals, some part of me still think so. Maybe it’s the first impression effect, and my first impression of you was flawless.
You were one of the reasons I fought but are you? Even now?
I can’t decipher what you mean to me, right now.
In a parallel universe, what would I do? If there is another me somewhere, would she fight for you? Despite all that you had done? After she realised she is honestly never gonna be pieced back in a proper manner, or any manner. Maybe she would be able to hate you, a privilege that I am not entitled to in this place. Maybe she would be stronger than me, and she can simply walk away. Maybe she would be able to look at you in the eyes and smile because she knows she is better.
Alternate Raey from another universe, show me a sign.
Tell me what to do. You are me after all, so how complicated can this be?
If I tear through the streets of my thoughts tonight looking for you demanding answers, please don’t reply me. My curiosity is slowly killing me and I want to know so badly what you are thinking but if you see me running, please turn the other way. When I turn corners, don’t let me see you (your presence will make every breath painful) When I run out of stamina and collapse at a corner don’t give in (your silence made every heartbeat ache) Just do what you always do: glance at me looking like you have something significant to say then turn away in that casual manner. That casual manner which you had always behaved with every smile (fake or real) with every word (truth or fabrications) with every motive (to break me or to break me)
The amount of courage I have to face you is the number of fucks you give about me.
I don’t have any of the latter anymore; you never had any in the first place.
“& you come away with a great little story
Of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you.
(now that I’m sittin’ here thinking it through, I’ve never been anywhere cold as you.)”
I REFUSE TO ACCEPT THIS. WHY IS MY WONDERFUL CLASS OF 11 BEING ASSIGNED TO A MISERABLE COMPUTER LAB AS OUR HOMEROOM?! ;___;
Ok really, I’m just ranting. I know perfectly why.
“It is not possible to assign home rooms for all Senior High classes, and priority is given to those classes with fewer subject bandings (as they have less movement between lessons).”
Thanks, that’s nice to know.
“The Timetabling Comm has made considerable effort to create, for each class, a timetable that is “compact” and yet provides sufficient breaks for the students. However, due to the complexity of our school’s timetabling and the various deployment constraints, a small number of you (esp. those taking odd subject combinations) might have either too long a break between lessons or too many consecutive lessons without a break.”
The life of a humanities student .___. We are sad creatures.
The thing is, conformity denotes efficiency. Systems cater to the majority and the minority often gets left out in the process. It’s inevitable and it’s simply tragic for my class because we are old people who cannot climb so far and we will be so cut off from the rest of the world ): Good thing we are awesome on our own.
But I wanna rant about something else: how difficult it is to be different.
Maybe some people may naturally draw the conclusion that I am someone that is different for the sake of being different. But I don’t blame you, you probably don’t get it.
Being different can be painful. Heck, it IS painful. You are always getting misunderstood. You are constantly getting bullshit from people. They won’t be kind. They are gonna give it to you in your face and twice thrice ten times of that dumb shit behind your back. You’re gonna feel that constant need to fight. The fight against people, against common opinion, against conformity. Sometimes, you lose track of what you are fighting against but you know for a fact that you can’t stop because once you do, all that you did in the past is for naught and you know that you are fighting for something no matter what it is.
You don’t do this sort of nonsense to yourself just to “be different”. i AM different, I am not trying to BE different. I wouldn’t be so miserable if I am. I just have to stop being and conform with everyone else. I can strive to be popular, like the things most people like, do things most people do, talk about the things most people talk about and just lose all form of personality possible.
I can’t do that. I honestly can’t. If I could, I would have a lot less trouble attempting to fit structure into my essays, that’s for sure.
And the thing is I am so frustrated. With how difficult this is but I am still doing it. I can’t really complain but I can’t help the frustration. This road to being different, to choosing different things… They are difficult decisions to make, they really are. To those of you who make fun, who are you to make fun? And for those of you who pity us, what makes you think we need the pity? We need no pity, we need no help. We need sincerity, we need support. For me, I wish for one day I can step into a room full of complete random strangers and tell them I want to be a filmmaker and they wouldn’t give me funny looks. Hell, I’ll lower this expectation: I just want one person to smile at me and say, “good for you!” Genuinely, sincerely, from the bottom of his/her heart. I’ve enough of narrow-minded mindsets. You don’t have to be odd to accept the odd. Just don’t condemn them.
It’s 12am and I’m getting incoherent. Just saying.
The world is making me so tired to be a dreamer. I would like to think that there are people who are really jealous of me being able to dream so big as though there are no consequence. Do you know how much I want to yell, “FUCK THIS SHIT I JUST WANNA RUN AND RUN AND RUN AND SOMEHOW REACH MY DREAM!! I DON’T CARE ABOUT MONEY I DON’T CARE ABOUT BEING REALISTIC I DON’T CARE ABOUT MY GRADES I JUST WANNA DO THIS SO BAD I DON’T MIND DO ANYTHING BECAUSE NONE OF THIS CAN STOP ME!!” I want to look at people with that glint in the eyes, the glint that appears because I’m so nuttingly determined. I want to frighten people at how reckless I can be in doing this. I want to be a legacy. But there are always people around to tell me that I can’t make it or I have to be realistic and I just get so damn afraid.
Fuck realistic. I’m doing this. I really want to do this. And I am gonna do this. Call me naive and call me stupid but I am visualising a story for myself where I honestly just throw everything out of the window, inclusive of my under-utilised brain and whatever’s left of my common sense and just run after my dreams. You know those inspiration stories where the poor actor scraps by eating bread once in two days but then end up landing the role of a lifetime and becoming the most famous and successful person around? Yea I am thinking something along those lines.
Bring on the bread. Bring out the hardships. Bring on the scrapping gum off the subway in some lonely foreign land in exchange for a meal. I honestly don’t want to care anymore.
I want to be happy. And I will be happy doing my dream. 2012, be kind. The years ahead are already going to be very tough on me.
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By the way, I want to say a big ginormous FUCK YOU to this group of people: the group that goes “Oh it’s so amazing how this person dares to be different. It’s so courageous and admirable!” & they are the first to laugh at the people who are different. “Lol what a loser/loner/lame person, who the hell does that!?”
Y’all are really disgusting. And Mother Monster approves.
And for those of you who are different for the sake of being different, like just simply doing so for no apparent reason, your call. I guess while I find that kinda pathetic, it beats being a copy of someone else. Why you wanna die a copy when you were an original? Cliche but so true. I certainly wouldn’t want that. What makes all those blind followers of the popular crowd believe that they are better off being like them? Who planted ideas in them that they have this shot at being better at the originals at being themselves? So ridiculous, this world that is.
Done ranting incessantly, my brain is really overreactive at night. Gosh.
I’m doing that thing when my thoughts run wild again. And when they do, they usually bleed into a crime scene where i’ll feel incredibly guilty for and proceed to punish myself afterwards.
It’s just not right, messes like this. It leaves me as a ball of tangled twine which refuses to function normal everyday stuff.
Just been thinking about you again. & how I promised myself I was gonna bury you with 2011. Look, the first post of 2012 is dedicated to you. Letting go isn’t easy, it never is, & I’m still trying. Still trying so damn hard but you’ve winded yourself into my emotional harddrive so damn tight I can’t pull you off without hurting myself. That’s what I’m doing now, snipping you away bit by bit & along with it, pieces of myself as well.
I’m getting there but I can’t help but feel that broth of anger and frustration and pain bubbling within me again. Do you know what you did? Do you really? Did you intend to? If yes, why? Are you not aware of the damage? Are you not aware of how you destroyed me in such a way I can’t no longer go back yet not I’ve nowhere to head to and am currently stuck in a limbo? This vortex of emotions is showered with endless questions pitter-pattering on my non-reactive head & over-reactive heart.
How could you just walk away like that, leaving me here like this? How could you? (Well yes, you could but why me? What was I supposed to do? Look out for the non-existent warning signs? Install an actual siren in my head to yell ‘danger’?) Why why why why why why why.
It’s not fair. It never is & it never will be. This is as far as I would let myself dwell over you tonight. Goodbye.
Yup it’s one of those end-of-year post-lists things that I do every year yay! I know I kinda recapped my year in my previous post already but c’mon that was way too lengthy and emotional. Let’s end this 2011 with a pic-spammed and much livelier post! :=)
In a sort-of-chrnological manner but not-really-as-you-can-see
In no particular manner what so ever:
#1: Whatsapp
Ok I know a lot of you are probably laughing at this one but Whatsapp played quite a significant role in my 2011! Considering the fact that I don’t have unlimited text ): Anyways, through Whatsapp I did manage to catch up with some old friends and forge new friendships as well. Got to know some stuff from people via this and I would say that it really was quite important because if not for it I wouldn’t be able to rant to my friends in times of need. (you’ve seen my rants if you see this blog; people rant text messages I rant texts novels hence Whatsapp is useful for both me and the poor audience who’s reading it. It’s more comprehensive I guess)
Special mentions to Candice and Wenxin who I think I’ve used Whatsapp the most this year (: Thankyou dears y’all really helped me pull through quite a few difficult periods this year. Oh and I don’t think he’ll see this but hello Gerald, I like our Whatsapp convos LOL.
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#2: 5C11
Well… What can I say? I am amazed by my class of dreamers and how Miss Teo managed to make it out of this year alive with this group of maddening sharklings. Still remember the first day of school…
Miss Teo: Ok so it seems like only one person in thie class don’t take Math…
Raey: Omigosh who’s the lucky duck! Ey wait, is it me?
Miss Teo: …
She should had took that as a preview as to the rest of her year with us. What’s with Isabel’s Like a Isabel moments and Gerald’s lame puns and Zi Yi and Xin Yi’s outbursts here and there. Not to mention the PW period when all of us went nuts (I danced up and down the corridor singing the F-U-N song so yea)
This class is such a magical blend of the weird and quirky and strange and beautiful. So damn grateful to be here and to feel that I belong. I’ll have to spend another one year with y’all Oneones (: Let’s rock it.
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#3: my Bitch Clan
First things first: WLAO EY I DON’T HAVE A PHOTO WITH Y’ALL SO I HAD TO RESORT TO USING THIS ONE ): WHAT IS THIS NONSENSE WE HAVE THE QUEEN OF CAMWHORE IN THE GROUP (AHEM ISABEL) BUT WE DON’T HAVE A GROUP PHOTO? TSKS.
Second things second: I don’t look good in any of my photos .__. But I look so much better with the extensions so yea ok, extensions are good!
Anyhoo, thankyou for tolerating my nonsense this year my bitches. Yea we haven’t been nice and talked nasty stuff and all that (hence the name) but y’all are still ykw, my posse and all that whatnot so thankyou for sticking around and generating nonsense with me (: Y’all can always turn things around and provide fresh perspectives lmao.
Another year with all you bitches, I couldn’t be happier but I think all of you are grumbling HAHAHAH CYA ROUND, BITCHES 8)
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#4: SHEDS (Senior High English-Speaking Dramatic Sluts)
If I thought JHEDS was mad, they come nothing close to this group.
Most people change their CCAs when they come up to Senior High but I made the choice to continue with drama. Like I’ve mentioned, drama is something in my blood and the stage is a calling I feel obliged to answer. There is a performer in me that I have to satisfy. I did consider joining CS this year actually LOL but boy am I glad I didn’t.
All the wonderful people I’ve met and grown closer to. (Forged bonds that I don’t ever want to break) Each one of them are interesting and refreshing personalities to be around with and it’s always a great experience to hear their thoughts on stuff. And when it comes to hanging out, it’s ALWAYS good fun (last night was another example to add to the list)
Oh another thing: I’ve 3 solid photo albums of this group of crazyasses on Facebook but I can’t pick a single one to put here because they are all rated .__. I mean look at the faces in the above photo~ Sigh, you people. My life would suck without you.
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#5: Student Council
hello Council~ Since I’ve already dedicated two longass paragraphs that can totally pass for an essay in my previous post, I shall skip past the explanation part of why y’all are here.
All the best, Council. I know the y5s have been working very hard these days for Orientation so I’m sure it’s gonna be a blast ^^ And for the y6s who had been kind and patient with me through this year thankyou as well. All of you helped me grew to become a better person and while the metamorphosis was painful, the result was worth it. I kinda like myself better now after what y’all put me through lol.
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#6: Homa
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#7: David Choi in Singapore
So it’s probably no biggie but him popping into Singapore again and this time round with a showcase that I could attend is simply mindblowing (for a fangirl, this is SUCH a big deal) I honestly melt into a puddle of nothing when facing him and lose all ability to speak.
David along with Wong Fu are my greatest inspirations and for David I know it’s strange since I don’t even dabble in music but it’s his determination to produce his own style of music and persevering up to now that captures me. He fought the battle to edge towards his dream his way and never wavered in the course of it and now he is being acknowledged as David Choi with his own style of music and I couldn’t be happier for him.
He reminds to fight my battles my way and never lower my head to compromise my individuality. He reminds that there is never a reason to sacrifice what you are to choose the easier route in order to get what you want. If he had adhere to what the record labels asked, with his talent he would had been signed a long time ago but he didn’t because he wanted that creative space and of course, to keep his own style. And that my friends, is what strikes me the most.
It’s been a big year for Wong Fu as well (: And I am so ridonkulously happy for them and glad that I’ve been able to follow them through this journey ^^
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#8: Harry Potter (The End of My Childhood)
HP1: It all begins.
HP7.2: It all ends.
So when the last book was released that should had been the end of my childhood since I did grow up with the books and not so much of the films. But ykw how you finish the last book and felt sad and all but thought, “at least I still have the movie!” Then the movie was released and you realise that it is really over & you go asdghhjkl .___.
I started sobbing so hard when the Snape scene started and cried so hard at his death and when I saw all of Hogwarts coming together to protect their beloved school I am like omg omg omg -cries- ok I am a total Potter nerd but this series had honestly been a really big part of my childhood and when I used to pine for my Hogwarts acceptance letter and fantasise about the castle and which house I would be in and all that.
So according to Pottermore, I’m a Slytherin which most people are saying fits me. But I can’t help but wonder that if I took the Sorting quiz before this year, would the result be different? Hmm :\
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#9: Sugoyi
HELLO MY SUGOYI SUGOYI! I still have the board y’all made for me hanging on my world LOL and I am so happy that we managed to stay close even after one year so frigging amazing. Maybe right now we’ve been busy and we’re gonna be even busier in the future but let’s hope we’ll still be this close this time next year. SUGOYI FOREVER OK I MEAN LOOK AT ALL THE FOOD WE CAN EAT.
I’ve accomplished so many stupid things with y’all ok what will I do without all of you? I mean, I’ve been to Japan and ran down a longass up escalator and put up with burps in my ear and eat dried mangoes like they are crack and again, LOOK AT ALL THE FOOD WE FINISHED LOL.
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#10: American Sitcoms
Ok so they haven’t been a HUGGGGGE part of my life and only kinda got to know HIMYM and TBBT better this holidays (they were what kept me going ok. An average day in my entire holiday was wake up -> do my work -> lunch -> do my work -> bike if it didn’t rain -> dinner -> watch my American sitcoms.) Wow my holiday is so pathetic .__.
But anyhoo, the quality of their shows are so good and while I’ve always loved Glee due to how relatable it is, I love the other two shows equally much now. HIMYM is beautifully shot and I love how the story has such flawless continuity. TBBT’s humour is just epic, seriously. And I love the development of the characters they are so well-defined. As an aspiring filmmaker, they kinda make me want to enter TV which is something that I wasn’t interested in previously, since I had intended to just focus on short films and new media. Options options…
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#11: Wicked
Me and my wonderful Wicked programme ^^
Watching Wicked was a breath-taking experience and I can’t emphasise enough. The storyline is relatable, the songs are beautiful and everything just falls in so brilliantly. This is my all-time favourite musical and when it came to Singapore, I simply couldn’t believe it. I was actually nuts enough to want to fly all the way to New York to watch it on Broadway (which I still will) but even watching the Australian cast in Singapore was mesmerising enough. Wicked is wicked, the end.
Jemma Rix & Lucy Durack swopping roles the quality of the video is terrible but the voices and how much fun they had was so adorable. If you are a Wicked fan, watch til the end you won’t regret it! If you aren’t, still watch it! Then go check out the soundtrack LOL.
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I guess that concludes my 2011! It’s been a painfully brilliant year which I think was full of personal growth for me. I grew a lot and learnt a lot and changed a lot and now that I look back this year I don’t have any regrets for anything I did. Which I guess it’s good since I don’t believe in doing something only to regret it later. What I do regret are the things I didn’t do which I can safely say, was zero since I did all that I said I would this year and more. Goodbye, 2011. I really can’t wait to let you go since you had been exhausting so yup, come along now 2012!
2012 may be my As year and people say it’s the year where it is gonna be pure torture but right now I’m choosing to embrace it instead of fearing it. I guess my New Year resolution is that I will actively choose to be happy. There is always a choice. And like Fiyero said, “it’s looking at things in a different way.”
I am choosing to look at it in a different way.
For 2012 and the rest of my life, I pledge to be happy.
It was familiar yet strange, like someone or something she once stumbled upon in a dream that one time. In that faraway place she kinda knew but kinda didn’t. Perhaps it was her overactive imagination meddling with her thoughts again because as she goes through the motions of this storm, she predicts each course of action one after another and as time and again she got it right, things suddenly became a teeny bit frightening.
It wasn’t one of those bingo moments where you throw your hands up in the air and can’t help but grin; it was one of those uh-oh-I-know-where-this-is-going-&-i-don’t-like-it-but-I-still-have-to-go-on moments.
She pressed on, stubborn as hell she was. It had always been a defining trait of hers, nearly as outstanding as that streak of red-gold she had against her mop of ebony hair. Both screamed for unnecessary attention and it was testimony to the phrase “be careful for what you wish for.”
A storm was coming.
She bit her lip as the wind lashes out at her cheeks, her hair. It whipped and toyed with the latter mercilessly, as though ripping out that bit of red-gold will tame the unruly rebel in the girl as well. But the girl was a fighter. And this fighter was a girl so all she simply did was to whip her hair as well but into a ponytail and pray she would not come across any reflective surfaces.
Praying, that’s an interesting thought. Most people would had been on their knees by now, asking whatever sort of supernatural beings they placed their faith in. She was envious of such people, secretly jealous that they’re able to let in such a force into their lives and believe such things een without any evidence they exist. To be able to place such faith into things this abstract was something she can’t do no matter how hard she craved it. It was an ability he past destroyed.
A storm is near.
Here she is. She finally made it. An awkward grin scrawled itself across her face. Nine steps to where she wants to be. Take each step slow, take one with a single breath, savour the taste of air; a messed-up blend of acid dust impending rain and doom.
Remember this nine steps this nine breaths this nine moments. Hang on to this memories for as long as you can. Don’t say forever because that’s a long time and usually people who say that word end up not being able to live up to it. Don’t be one of those people who promise forever and couldn’t make it. Don’t be one of those who said forever and couldn’t do anything about it when everything they said should last forever came down crashing down, not unlike how the skies are every shade of grey and are descending upon you now. Ash grey, cement grey, dull grey… They resembled a washed out mural that once depicted a happy scene.
A storm is here.
The first step was always the hardest. Inhale. Exhale. Pretend that you didn’t see your first fall come up in a grainy manner before you. She fell and you winced for her because you still remember the pain from that fall.
Step two. It was your first day at school. Nervous glances, uncomfortable silence and conversations alike, friends made and friends lost. School brought you through step three and four without you even noticing it and you silently curse that institution that had robbed you of those two steps and the memories that could had come with it.
But you’ll be fair: you did spend an awful lot of time in school and the events that happened there should last those two steps.
Step five. You recalled how much disappointment you’ve brought to people and people had brought you. A scale conjured in your lil head weighted them both and you nodded that indeed, the disappointment you’ve generated far outweighed what you went through. And for the first time, you felt something break inside of you.
Step six. Whatever broke in step five had started twisting itself inside you. Like when you first tasted betrayal & how it tore your insides in different directions.
Step seven. Inha-you realise you’ve difficulties breathing now. The breath is sharp and difficult and you were unfamiliar with intensity of it. Every breath you take everyday had been painful but this one, this particular intake of air was literally killing you. You thought about those long nights you thought you would never get through but did and the morning after you didn’t felt recharged with hope; you felt drained of it because you seemed to had used it all up the night before.
The eighth step had something fragile roll down your cheeks and you wiped it off with so much force it hurt. You wouldn’t allow such weakness associated with yourself so you had swallowed back so much injust and fear just to build up your facade. You refuse to let all that hard work crumble, not even now.
Step nine brought you to where you had intended to be and you realise that this breath coupled with this step was a fragment of the storm itself. It hurt to bring it into your lungs and hurt doubly to exhale it. A fragment of the storm within you.
But how would it match up to the storm you have on the inside? All that pain all that hurt all that doubt all that uncertainy engulfing you when they merged to form a powerful hurricane, destroying all in their path and leaving nothing whole, just like you.
A storm had arrived & you let it take you with it. You willingly let it do what it wanted, tear you limb by limb and blend you into a cocktail of flesh and bone, nothing more. You wanted to laugh so bad at how you made sure you died in a manner befitting of what you felt on the inside.
You lost yourself in a hurricane of emotions a long time ago
& today,
you simply lost yourself
Not bad, ey? Took it when I was on the Singapore Flyer today. Had spent the past 24hours with my family. I don’t know why I make it sound like such a pain when really it wasn’t. I can’t say that I enjoyed myself but I would say that my family is one of the things that I take for granted most of the time.
“Have you lost your way?
Livin’ in the shadow of the messes that you made
And so it goes
Everything inside your circle starts to overflow
Take a step before you leap
Into the colours that you seek
You give back what you give away
So don’t look back on yesterday”
-Aftermath
Been listening to Adam Lambert ever since I got back and this song really struck me. It got me thinking of so many things and let’s just say that I already have a lot on my mind these days.
I stumbled about an old diary of mine the other day. Flipped it open and had a good laugh at its content. But that laughter was mixed with a dash of hurt and pain because I saw how I promised myself again and again that I would get better (and never did) That I am to become stronger (but never did.) Page after page I scribbled apologies to people I’ve let down time and again (some one too many). All that self-loathe followed by a disgusted entry of what I wrote previously, with it coupled by a ‘I won’t ever do that again’ only to repeat this cycle throughout the diary. I wanted to tear up all of it right then and there, only to decide not to so as to keep it as a sadistic memento of the past me. I sat there, cradling the diary while hugging my knees and just thought how for someone who takes great care and effort to make sure I never make empty promises to people or leave them hanging because I know how that felt like… I never made it a point to do the same for myself.
It’s as though I don’t view myself as worthy of my trust and effort to keep promises. Which isn’t entirely a lie, strange as that sounds.
Bringing the walk down the memory lane a lil further, I thought back about this year and how it was ending. Not much of a dramatic ending to a crazy year, pity. But it was taking myself through the entire year did I realise how far I came. I really did come pretty far. Broken and hurt and scarred and ruined probably for my entire life (pardon the melodrama) but well, I’m here. I took myself back to January, then February and March… I mentally zoomed through each month because my memory isn’t powerful enough to go through it by days or weeks but I wanted to force myself to take a proper look at the year so by month it was. And this is the part where you realised for the umpteen time it’s always the little things that lodges itself the deepest into your memory.
I thought about how I started the year with my Year Four self. Mischievous, rebellious and still possess had that hint of innocence and naivety in me that believed people could still be good and things were probably gonna get better. And how people would still view me as a freak, as a weirdo and how nobody in a thousand years expected me to end up on Council. I must say, Council is a very defining event for me this year and while the process got painful sometimes, I never regretted it. The Council experience was a magnificent learning opportunity for me and truth be told, being a part of Council made me feel like I finally got something right. Maybe it’s because it’s one of the first ‘normal’ things that I’ve done. Maybe it’s because I, once again, surprised many and all that I would actually make it. Maybe it’s because it was one of the first few things that I felt was testimony to the phrase “you reap what you sow”. Too many maybes, I can’t list them all. But this would really be one memory that I would carry with me for a long, long time.
Allow me to divert with a short story: my friend told me after Investiture this year that she felt that I don’t belong there onstage. Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t mean to say I didn’t earn my rightful spot there. She meant it in a way that I don’t belong to be on Council. That something about me just make me stick out like a sore thumb among all the rest of them. And now that my term is over, I look back at this passing comment of hers and I’ll say, she’s right. I never felt like I belonged with the Council people. The people there are nice of course but like she said, I just constantly feel like I am a wrong jigsaw piece trying to fit in with the rest of the puzzle and never succeeding. Yet without me, this puzzle will still look ever so picture-perfect. The Council is no doubt one big family but I had never felt that way no matter how many bonding activities or how sweet the people are inside. I’ve made new friends and strengthen old friendships through my time in Council but it’s so difficult for me to address Council as something I feel belonging to. I guess it boils down to the rebel inside of me that can never sit still with the concept of ‘fitting in’. I wish Council well and I wish Council luck but I also wish that next year when I see them pass down to the juniors I can find that strength within me to say the same thing to them but calling them my Council instead.
If you question why in such a case, I even want to join Council in the first place then I can tell you: til now, the actual reason still escapes me. To serve the school to serve my house? Yes that. And something else, but what? For what’s worth, I meant every word I said during elections because I’m just not of those people to give empty promises and say things I don’t mean. And for everything I’ve said this year I’ll do I did what I could. I do find it regrettable that I am not able to fulfil my promises better though. Why did I find so hard for a spot? I guess there was also a part of me that wanted to see how far I could go and a small little voice that told myself that if I were to make it through this, I could make through anything. Because there were too many people telling me it’s impossible and too many things telling me I can’t do it and too many memories reminding me of how unfit unlikely unworthy I am and I didn’t want to take it lying down anymore. I didn’t want to be wrong anymore and some odd twisted way I thought that if I were to do this, I could tell myself that I am indeed capable of doing something right.
So I started the year a rebel and ended the year still a rebel but a rebel with a tie-pin stating I’m a Student Councillor and a year’s worth of bittersweet memories. Pretty good deal actually.
I thought about how at the start of Term One my uniform was a violation of the dress code by nearly every way possible. The blouse wasn’t approved, the skirt was too short… And yet by the end of the year, I had a model student’s set of uniform. Ha, funny how life works.
I recalled the mad rush of production and how crazy everyone got during that time but somehow I had this sheer faith that everything was going to be ok. I don’t know how I maintain to that faith that now was probably blind at times, I could tell myself with such firm belief, ‘it’s gonna be ok. On that day, it’s gonna be ok.” I guess it might have something to do with the fact that I’ve the 4 years of JHEDS experience to base this off but I’m guessing it has to do with the magic of theatre as well. The magic of the stage. Oh you have to be a performer to understand this part. How you go mad trying to perfect every little detail before the actual day. How you tear yourself apart with ‘this is not gonna make it’ and ‘it’s got to make it. It simply has to.’ How you see your cast improve bit by bit and see your production fall into place bit by bit as well. How you step onstage and breathe that air under the spotlight and feel immediately at home. In spite of the nerves and the butterflies you feel at home. And how when the curtains falls and you hear the applauses and the flood of emotions nearly brings you to your knees you’ll still hold your head up high and savour that moment because that was the moment that you have working for. The magic of theatre lies in how you can spend your entire life and nearly kill yourself for those few minutes onstage and that split moment of euphoria and you realise that it was all worth it. To crudely put it, I guess it’s like orgasm. You work so hard and you give your everything for that point of climax. Now that we are here, I must say I miss the stage a lot. The chilly air backstage, the hushed whispers before performance, the butterflies the nerves, the breath I take when I am under that spotlight and about to recite my line, the way all eyes are on me and I am the epitome of the phrase ‘in the moment’ and most of all, how among all this, the fun and happiness I derive from doing this.
Drama is something that is already in my blood. And at the risk of sounding deranged, the stage calls for me. It wants my blood it wants my warmth it wants me up there with it. The stage calls for me to perform and I must answer it no matter what. Which is why I talked to inanimate objects and to myself even when I walk down the streets. Which is why sometimes I turn around and ask nobody for opinion as to whether or not to purchase such a thing. Which is (probably) why my hands fly all over the place when I talk even though I don’t realise it half the time til the other party points it out. Everyday, drama makes my life a lil wee bit surreal.
Then I look back at July to September when I nearly came down. It’s all about the grades, it’s all about the grades. And how I just felt like I’m at the very bottom and there was no way up and that I was honestly going insane thanks to my academics and how nothing I ever do seem to make a difference. I’m seeing past this now I guess because in some way, I just don’t care anymore.
October and November were spent with my crazy Oneones due to Project Work and while I can’t go into all the various epic moments we had as there are simply TOO many to list, I just want to say I am so damn thankful for this class and how accepting they can be. And how this class we may all be big dreamers but I love our courage to dream big and with that, the courage to pursue our big dreams and to make them a reality. I want to see my class remains dreamers for as long as possible. Not saying that we don’t ever make our dreams a reality but in a sense that we will always dream of better things and with our dreams, pursue greater heights. I want to visit a theatre someday and see my classmate performing and tell people, “I knew her back when she was dreaming of making this her profession.” I want to point to a building and tell people that I knew the guy who built it way back, and that he had said he was to become an architect and he did. I want to tell people stories of my class, my class of dreamers, who had all made them come true. I want to run down the streets in the near future and tell people, “I know a group of amazing people who can prove dreams come true.” And for this lovely group of beings, I wish and hope with my fingers and toes crossed that they never get ruined by reality. They would inevitably be hurt by it but I trust that they would be strong enough to get by it and continue striving. Again, with the sheer blind faith in things but you don’t understand when I say, “they are gonna make it. They really are.”
Words fail me. Hard to believe but I actually am very bad at expressing myself which is why this post is so incredibly lengthy.
“Wanna scream out
No more hiding
Don’t be afraid of what’s inside
Gonna tell ya you’ll be alright
In the Aftermath”
Recently I’ve realised a problem I have. It is getting rather serious, in my humble opinion.
I have this strange case of paranoia that I cannot explain but knowing me, I am about to attempt to. And knowing me, I would go around in circles before concluding that I knew nothing more about the matter than I did at the beginning of the circles.
Oh I know myself so well.
I can’t wait to get out of here, whatever here is defined to be. Be in this country, this school, this environment, this system… I don’t know for sure, all of the above would had been a good fit in the context I am about to draw up. I am suffocated. I am struggling. And I want out. Out in the sense that I am tired of fighting but I know I still have to. Out in a sense that I know I can’t quit just yet but I don’t see how I can move on. One more year, I’ll silently chant to myself, one more year.
After 2012, my life will be magical. My life will truly begin. It is this wait from now til that beginning that I am impatient. I can’t wait anymore. I want to stamp my feet and yell and scream and go, “Why can’t it go faster? Why is it not my turn yet?” I want to experience life to its fullest. I want to see the world in its rawest truest most colorful way possible. I want to be able to enjoy myself thoroughly. Most of all, I want to be able to go all out to pursue my dreams. To laugh and cry and fall in the process of it. I want that. I want that. I want that. I can’t emphasise that anymore.
Now that I have drawn up the situation’s perimeters, this is where the paranoia comes in. I am afraid that I am not going to make it. What if I need another year before I can do this? What if I break down before I reach that beginning? What if I lose sight of what I want and it all comes to naught at the end of the day? What if, touchwood, I simply walked out of this place and went, ‘I quit.”? These are all possibilities that so real I can visualise them in front of me already. Yet I am labelling them as a paranoia simply because I know they are unnecessary fears. That in a parallel universe, I will be without fear and I would be so damn certain that I will scrap through. That I will emerge victorious.
However, my overactive brain and imagination is afraid of what the flip side of the coin offers as well. What if I DO make it? And I am thrown into the path of achieving my dreams as soon as all this bullshit is over? What’s gonna happen? Will I be ok? I know I know, I don’t make any sense do I? First I’m worried about not making it and now I’m worried that I would make it.
One thing that frightens me the most is the thought that once I make it out of here I would find people like me. People with common dreams, with similar habits, with behaviors alike mine. Like when Elphaba first reached Emerald City and all of a sudden, she realises that is where she belongs and she savours the feeling of not being perceived as a freak. Good for her, isn’t it? But that concept scares me because all of a sudden, I wouldn’t be queer anymore. I wouldn’t be strange, I wouldn’t be different in the way that I am now. Currently, I stick out like a sore thumb. What about the future? What if the future managed to blend me into a landscape that is suitable for me? Maybe it would delight me to finally find a place I belong to but with the label of a freak being part of my identity for so long I’m not sure if I can shake it off like that. It’s like I’ve this innate need to be unique in a way that most people think so.
What if I end up somewhere where everyone is unique… like me.
Am thinking too much again. Am worrying too much again.
