Lucky to be coming home again.

So it's Friday night, and I'm stuck here all alone in the condo instead of enjoying the Manila nightlife. Why oh why do I have to fall sick? Despite the inconvenience, I'm not exactly surprised since there hasn't been a time when I came back to Philippines that I did not fall sick. I blame excessively sanitised Singapore for the development of my weak immune system. Stupid alikabok (dust).KJ (Kill-joy) talaga. O well, I'll just stay home tonight, drink lots of calamansi juice and boiled ginger and water, stick to strict medication and thus hopefully fasttrack my road to recovery. I will not be beaten by a stupid flu/cold/cough/whatever it is!


Because of this, one of my things-to-do-before-i-turn-30 is to live here for a couple of years to train my immune system. Haha. Of course, that's not the only reason. I need to learn how to live here. I feel like an extremely pampered loser whenever I come here. I'm 20 and I still don't know how to commute in mind boggling MM (even puny Tacloban City)- and taxi does not count. And I'm still intimidated by the brashness and other attitudes of Filipinos I'm not regularly accustomed to. I am but a mere observer to the organized mess that is the norm for people here, and I watch, mostly from my semi-comfortable air conditioned taxi/hired car. It's a city(cities) whose ugly side I've been protected from most of my life, a culture I've been selectively immersed in. In a sense, I don't understand. I know bits and pieces, but I can't confidently say I understand. 

Straddling between realities, neither one feeling completely right. How do I reconcile this conflict in identity? 

i need a sorting hat for my thoughts

I wish I knew where the switch to my 'faith' button was. Faith in God, faith in myself, faith in others. Because I'm scared. I'm scared of this growing negativity creeping into every crevice of my heart, my mind, and my soul. There's a saying, "I think, therefore I am" and the thing is, I'm not happy with the person I'm becoming. 

I smile to make myself happy. I don't smile because I'm happy. The only convincing hypothesis I can think of is that maybe,  deep down, I have this twisted belief that I don't deserve to be happy. When I started believing that lie, I don't know, but despite knowing it's a lie, I still can't help believing it and acting on it. And I hate feeling this wretched when I have no reason to be. I who have not lost a great love, I who have not suffered unimaginable loss, I who have not experienced unbearable pain nor depravity, I who have more than many others can ask for. It's baffling, even to myself that I can contain such unfounded melancholy. I'm bringing this upon myself. Somehow I'm choosing to feel this way. Maybe because it's times like this I feel so in tune with myself - because the emotions are so acute, I can't help but pay attention. Whereas, most of the days, I live, on moderate, middle ground feelings. Never fully happy, never fully sad. 

The other thing is that I expect too much of people when I know, I, myself can't do the same for them. And I hate this unreasonable side of me because it just engenders frustration when I follow the script for social interactions. It's very selfish and stupid and there have been instances where friendships failed because of that. And even when I tell myself that I should not expect much, I still do, and it just leads to disappointments (which wouldn't have been disappointments in the first place if I just learned how to accept and not expect). I unnecessarily set myself up for disappointment. Paradoxically, when things become too real for me to handle, I'm the first to back away. Human relationships are so peculiar, difficult and unpredictable. Or maybe it's just me. At this state, I wouldn't want to be in a relationship with me. Haha. 

I need a conclusion.

I Gotta Step Outside These Walls

I cling to the days of the past; memories, vignettes, snippets of emotions. 

A tug of war between focussing on the present and revelling in what has passed.

It's time to make new memories, because the same old stories are starting to bore me.

No matter how many times I look back on it, I see the same girl. 

Same, because I can't pinpoint the exact moment I started building walls around myself. 

Feels like it's always been like this. Thing is, I can't remember why.

Random Old Pictures I Dug Up

Museum of Flight(Boeing), Seattle, USA.

 

If my hair was clean cut short, I'd pass of as a dude.

Those were the days I thought huge shirts and cargo pants were cool.

Madame Tussauds, Las Vegas, USA

I met Shaq and I'm a hobbit next to him. 

It's Jordan yo! Coolest ever.

Doing my cheesiest Dial 1800-VOTE-FOR-VAL-1.

I miss family holidays. 

When The Stars Go Blue

(insert expletive in every language) 

It can only mean one thing: 

STARS.

This totally kills my interest in learning. 

It's The Good Advice, You Just Can't Take.

Stuck in a rut, and it's not a nice feeling. Nice, what does that word really ever mean anyway? Idleness makes me feel so contemplative, it's almost always turns into a full blown emo-fest. I can't ever see anything as it is, in a vacuum, without the strings of comparisons to the "others". Expectations, they just keep getting bigger, don't they? It's frustrating when achievements, once big, become nothing but mere expectations. No sense of credit being awarded to you, because it's the minimum you were expected to do anyway. The bar just gets higher and higher and you forget what you were reaching for in the first place. Messed up, so messed up when it shouldn't be. It's all in the mind and I guess, I have one messed up sense of confidence, of self, of expectations, of what life should be. I wish I can see myself the way others see me. Maybe I'm better, through those lenses but the mind does not work that way. It filters, it distorts, it presents thoughts in ways you want it to be presented to you. And because I have problems trusting myself, others, a higher being called God, I can't help but have numerous moments of self doubt, of plummeting confidence, of self pitying/wallowing talk that does nobody good. I don't talk about such things because the next day, I'll read back this entry, rebuke myself for being such a loser, dismiss the issue, put on a smile and "be myself" again. Whatever that means. But the fact is, this is nothing new. I've had the same issues raging in my mind since I turned 13. Every year, I convince myself that it's just a phase. And every year, my confidence does grow but whenever that happens, these ugly unresolved teenage insecurities rear its taunting heads, mocking my failed attempts. Cliche. I hate myself for using cliches. For living these cliches. I need get over my many, many hang ups - known or unknown, real or imaginary. I'm sick and tired of going through the same thoughts. That's why I'm so frustrated. I feel stuck. Stranded on the same ground. And the conflicting thing is that I know I can change it, I just can't bring myself to. Maybe because I love bumming around too much. Maybe it's because I don't care, I'm apathetic and I'm perfectly fine in this comfortable status quo. Maybe because I'm scared once things start to change I won't be able to stick to it, pull through or even accept it. Maybe because I'm scared of losing things and people important to me or that these changes will include realizations that I was never that important to them in the first place. Tangina. I need a good slap in the face. 

I'll shut up now.

Pretend this post never happened. It's 1.27 a.m. and I'm rambling. Again. 

I Want More Days Like This

Lazy Saturday afternoons, 

inelegantly sipping tea

gobbling up delicious Russian chocolates

and watching Memoirs of a Geisha

while living our own Memoirs of a Slob

talking about the past, the present, the future

of food, of school, of love, of life, of food

of scandals and lack of it

witty banters, incurable idiosyncrasies

Botak Jones fries and yummy mashed potatoes 

and pizza with too much pineapple

thunder and lightning, darkening skies

almost never ending conversations

going home, my Mom just came back home from China

big hug and more rubbish conversations 

with semi-drunk parents

almost two hours of nonsensical talk 

and too much laughter

too much Ruffles and Ice Lemon Tea

I love my family.

I love my friends. 

:)

a smile out of place

delicate, breakable lace

shrounds the truth, always

It's The Holidays Yet I'm Writing About School Related Stuff.

My internet connection speed is impossibly slow right now. Unknown powerful forces are conspiring to aggravate my headache. Today's hike around Singapore to deliver the WKWSCI FOC packages left me darker, exhausted and more convinced that global warming is an urgent and serious issue that should be tattooed into people's awareness so that something can be done about it. But that's another serious discussion for another day because as of now, I am rendered incapable of producing even a B grade GP essay.

June and I had an 8 hour adventure of  14 bus rides, interspersed with hours of walking towards both the right and wrong directions, while holding on dearly to our street directory and trusty transit link bus guide to locate the 12 houses, then knocking on strangers' doors, meeting and (not) meeting the targeted recipients and also, desperately fighting the temptation to simply mail all these packages and make our lives so much easier. Unlike some lucky people, we didn't have the luxury of a car (aircon!)  nor the funds to hire a cab (aircon!) for a day, so we had to plan our routes (bus transfers) the night before and what a headache it was. I thought South/South West was not that big (when plotted on the map) but somehow the ridiculously hot weather made the area seem so so big. Despite the planning, we still got lost , especially around Pasir Panjang area. It didn't help that my leg muscles were aching because of  the other day's sudden attempt at sprinting (See previous whiny post).

But we survived and completed our task so it was an accomplishment. 

So if you're one of those we (Junqi and Val) delivered the packages to, you better go for FOC or else. =) 

I'm most probably not gonna be able to make it for the camp because I'll be in Philippines. So sometimes I do ask myself, why in the world am I doing this anyway?! I'm not the biggest fan of camps and stories of other camps horrify me.  I hate camps in general but CS camp was different and I actually had a good time (And no, it wasn't just because of "the hot guy". Haha.). I remember feeling impressed and appreciative of the effort our seniors put in to make the experience more personal, sincere and inclusive. We may not all be the best of friends (far from it) but it really helps to see a lot of familiar faces in school everyday. I remember I was quite shocked when I saw Jin  appear at my doorstep with the package and a big smile around the same time last year. At that time I thought it was all very gimmicky, and I still do, but I guess it worked. 

Anyway, I'm finally very sleepy now, and my headache has ameliorated (SAT word!) without the help of panadol/aspirin thank you very much. I remember we studied how panadol works on receptors or whatever they are but the process eludes me at the moment. In fact, I remember almost nothing from JC Biology and stress-loving me is hoping to take BS101 next semester, a module with an 8.30 lecture on a Monday morning. I'm hoping to do another science as well so that I can clear my GERPE for Science. I wish I knew for certain now if I can go for the exchange program in Year 2 Semester 2 because I was thinking that maybe I can do a Science module there and not worry about it since it's simply a Pass/Fail thing. As for now, I plan to continue torturing myself for next semester. I have a horrible timetable planned (i.e. no day off!) and I might end up with 23 crazy AU's again. It's strange because despite that, I improved by a lot in Sem 2 despite the heavier workload. Maybe if I increase my workload next Sem then I'll improve again. HA! What lopsided, naive thinking I have. 

I will tackle STARS again tomorrow and finalize my timetable planning. I will REstart (i.e. stop bumming around <-- a skill and a love) on my Things-to-do so that I can experience that satisfying feeling of ticking them off. 

I'm extremely verbose these days and I still have a lot of things to write. (*that's for not writing regularly. thoughts, too many of em, accumulate!*)

I know I'm capable of a paradigm shift. But like motivation/inspiration, how long would it last?

Trivial Nonsense Not Worth Reading.

I'm one day shy of a full month hiatus from blogging. Not that I declared any hiatus. God, I feel so inarticulate. I'll just babble incessantly and rant incoherently through this medium, an act so strangely foreign for some reason. Anyway, I actually managed to get my lazy fat ass downstairs for a jog. Let's just pretend that I jogged for more than half an hour non-stop, completed many rounds, and overall, had a satisfying workout. =) Oh who am I kidding. I hate jogging. I'd rather cycle Ubin twice, roller blade ECP three times, swim 50 laps than jog. So I did sprints and walks. More of the latter. But whatever. I'm in serious need of an exorcism. Be gone sloth demon! Even my brother can attest to how lazy I am. Last night, while I was in the middle of watching How I Met Your Mother, my brother came into my room and said, "Hey! Let's go for a run!". I ignored him. "Stop being so lazy! Let's go for a run! 4 km. Let's just follow the park connectors.". The thing is, I was already settled on my bed in such a comfortable position, I could not bare to move much because that would mean a lot of fidgeting and adjusting later. "Come on! Let's go!" I turned to him and glared, "You asking me to move?" He gave me that i-can't-believe-i-have-the-sloth-queen-as-my-sister. I was not the least bit ashamed. Then he something, something so purely evil. "You're growing fat.". And that was it. I put on my running shoes. Dashed downstairs. Outran my brother twice then faced him with a smug expression. Ha. The events I've transcribed may have happened to another me in an alternate universe but what really happened last night was I simply said "You too" and went back to finishing my show. =) Guilt and invisible peer pressure then accumulated in my sleep which induced me to wake up early and exercise a bit. Sigh. But it is true. I need to lose this subcutaneous fat. But I hate running, and running is the only thing that is free, convenient and can be done on your own. Everything else require traveling, payment or company. Shucks. I'm the most undisciplined dieter in history because of the fact that I'm ruled by random cravings. I love food too much to develop any eating disorder. And I don't have enough motivation to be determined lose weight. I'm not exactly obese. No medical reasons. Self motivation is bullshit because I'm too lenient with myself. I don't have any guy to impress. And I'm now so good at nonchalantly shrugging "whatever" to any you-gained-weight comments. GAH. Know what? Screw it. Only vanity can save me and save me it will. I think. 

 

I think I just wasted your few precious minutes if you actually read this.