Beijing skies

on a typical foggy day, you can stare at the moon head-on, and wonder why it's so huge in evenings, and in a strong orange hue that stands out in the grey sky. okay, so maybe some have told me that it's actually the sun. still, a sight to behold.

on a lazy afternoon, people-watching while leisurely strolling the streets at Beijing's popular spot for its scenic lake views and traditional courtyard houses 四合院. kudos to the guy who sat on his rooftop with a Tsingtao beer in hand; a pretty damn cool way to watch the flurry of activities below.

at a pivotal bridge crossing at Hou Hai 后海

on a spontaneous night, you unexpectedly catch the soothing fountains and night lights along the park, a scenic prelude to witnessing the string of high-end shopping malls coming to life along the streets. and of course, we couldnt resist battling it out in mindless arcade games that provided many laughs and much-needed endorphins.

the Chinese Catholic Church at Wangfujing 王府井

.. and on a clear day, you can even glimpse the far mountains that you never even knew existed, and watch the clouds envelope the CBD in its white and blue glory.

from the 21st floor of LG Twin Towers 双子座大厦

in front of Jianguomenwai Avenue 建国门外大街

crazy.

crazy beautiful.

just like how friendships are.

even if it's an exhausting talk in between the zooming subways trains, or a long-distance phone call on another sleepless night. or the well-meaning comments, and the casual e-mails.

yeah.

it's the little things that catch you on your way down. so even if everything isnt okay, there's always something worth living for.

thank yous.

love weekends

especially waking up to a stream of sunlight gently flooding the room on a glorious afternoon. it's idyllic to just lie in bed snuggling against Honey, Whale-phin, three other pillows and a light comforter. makes for a great start to the day.

today's screening of Boomtown Beijing provided an insight into how the lives of some of the city dwellers have changed in tandem with the upcoming Beijing Olympics 2008. on a beautiful Sunday afternoon in the cozy Salud Bar at Nanluoguxiang, a few of us AIESECers trespassed into the seemingly ordinary lives of a passionate 12 year old child, a righteous taxi driver, a visually-impaired athlete and an educated elderly man. irrevocably linked, all three harbour noble dreams of making a difference for themselves, their family, and the country they call home.

the documentary was admirably local, touching on the importance of before and after rather than focusing on the grand show of today. filmed a year ago, the story tries to capture the essence of Beijingers living in the countdown of the upcoming Olympics. the film explores the tribulations of a young boy who wants to be an Olympic torchbearer, a taxi driver who wants to be a model citizen for the world to see, a determined athlete who wishes to bring home a Paralympic gold medal for his country, and a determined old man who wants more than anything to share the Chinese art of stick-flipping and ribbon-dancing.

it makes me think of how far Beijing has come since the days of extremely-tight government control, of how astounding sky scrapers now adorn the city's grey skies, and of the changes it has brought to society. in the subtle ways of society behaviour, materialistic desires are interwoven with a genuine need to retain sanity in a city where rapid growth is the only way to go. some have gladly embraced the economy growth, and along with that western cultural infiltratons and mindsets.. but is it at the expense of their identity? the children of today no longer do their own farming to bring rice home, while the old still plant vegetations in their relocated apartment compounds because they cannot let go of a lifestyle that was so ingrained in them.


do the locals all wait in anticipation of what the Olympics has to bring, or have they already spit out the bitter taste of what is to come in light of critical media spotlight from the world? do they understand the government's ambitious plans for infrastructure and technology, or do they clamour away at the remaining bits of familiar sanctuary soon to be given up for modern housing? what is the best way to preserve cultural heritage while alleviating poverty and providing a higher standard of living for the huge mass of people living under the five-star-red-flag banner? does such a way exist without compromising the virtues of yesterday?

if there was something i took away from today, it's that behind every champion is a multitude of failed attempts by other determined but forgotten souls. and it is the latter that makes the outcome extraordinary.

just because.

why bother
I write because I want to remember. I want to look back 20 years from now, and indulge in reminiscence at past adventures, laugh at once-special lovestruck jolts, see how far Ive come since the days of old reflections, gross humour and childlike naivety. Because hey, if I don’t even know what’s gonna happen tomorrow, how else will I remember today?

I write because I want my friends to know that I'm still surviving little struggles and living big dreams, and well, maybe stuck in an emotional rut sometimes. If they drop a line to say hi and share their own life stories, that usually more than makes my day. As for being too cryptic, it' because I still find the blogsphere too revealing for my own good. To share the more intimate details of my personal life is to be like the rose trees strutting their colours along Beijing's streets, just waiting to be plucked! I both admire and am appalled at those who have no qualms with online privacy.

I write because I want to know what others think about issues that I hold close to my heart. In a way, it also keeps me accountable to my words. I want to hear like-minded thoughts, different opinions and perhaps a whole new aspect beyond what I already know.

Outside The Forbidden City

sunny side-up
There are extremely good moments caught over lunch breaks with some classmates. Like when we had an incredibly meaningful but downright hilarious conversation about what our 最理想的职业 will be. Over the noise and dank atmosphere in the 食堂,we exchanged our thoughts on the ideal profession in a unique language mixture of Chinese, English and Indonesian. More amusing is the volleyball jargon I've picked up from the locals on the courts, a delightful few hours almost every evening.

Weekends are interesting, because there really is quite a bit to do here if you wanna play tourist. From the cultural class trips to Bei Hai Park (北海公园) and Temple of Heaven (天坛), to weekly get-togethers with the city dwellers who live 8 subway stops away, the experience feels more of a growing journey than Melbourne was. There was also the surprisingly successful picnic out at Chao Yang Park with a random bunch of people thrown together on a lovely Sunday afternoon. definitely up for more jianzi, volleyball with a soccer ball and cheese with french loaf!

Picnic at Chao Yang Gong Yuan

Class Outing to Bei Hai Gong Yuan

From Melbourne to Beijing

B8 goes to Tian Tan

mental wars

Then there’s the horrible days where I stuff down half a tub of peanut butter in one sitting, and spend the remaining hours of the day hating myself for that. Only to finish the other half the next day. It's incredibly tiring trying to refrain from puking when your post-meal conscience eats away at your insides.

Being a woman also means it's really easy to come crashing down after a high. Worse still, it hits you without you even realizing it. A lazy meal of porridge, a snippet of earthquake updates, a text from home.. any one enough to render you to tears within seconds. for no apparent reason! am so wired for a rocky week ahead.

Sunset at Chao Yang Gong Yuan

the hike up
Now that I've finally gotten internet credit, I can dedicate time to some serious job-matching. Furthermore, I'm not going to turn on the television for the whole of tomorrow, because waking up to the earthquake updates every day just ends up starting your day on a sombre note. Instead, I’ll turn up Last Night A Deejay Saved My Life (the Fabulous version) to get the body grooving.

And my goodness, no more peanut butter for a month. For real.

If you try hard enough, one day it'll all be alright.

with closed eyes and an open heart

with a little bit of luck and a lot of faith, i pray that the next 1 and a half months will reveal to me..

happiness and goodwill, for family back home and friends around the world that are sorely missed

peace of mind, that a definite plan will materialize itself in the precarious near future

more of Beijing's beauty, through sights that awe and tastes that satisfy

a greater understanding, of people and the workings of their mind, of the Chinese Language and its intricate but incredible depth

less guilt trips, from the grasps of over-eating, over-spending, and an under-par resolve to stick to the priority list

a new lease of life, from new adventures, new friends and new discoveries that will expand the breadth of which i view life.

and so she taught

“We teach for our students, not for ourselves.”

Bumbling through her banter, she paused only to take a spoonful of meehoon sprinkled with spring onions and skinny prawns. Pak Li Kopitiam, another one of the mushrooming kopitiam outlets in Dataran Sunway, was the start of our culinary adventure for the day.

“If you spoon feed your students, how will they break out of their high school mindset, and think for themselves through a challenge? Results say something, but most importantly, you must groom them while they are still in their foundation year.” Outside, the drizzle turned into louder taps against the wooden canopy roof.

“And that’s why the few of you are around, to uphold what should have always been..”, I declared. “I used to think that there was a severe lack of professionalism in this industry, but I was proven wrong. You inspired us to break out of the mould, to have faith in ourselves to achieve the unthinkable. And look, we came out tops!” I looked back on M2, the class of 2004.

She smiled. “You guys were great. It’s the students that keep me going. But.. it's tiring. I’m getting tired of fighting the authority, of the accusations that fly around the office.” The sparkling eyes looked away for a split second, failing to disguise the pain harboured inside. “They’ve misled me into renewing my retirement contract for a higher position but a lesser involvement in the classroom, and now they give me scholars to teach… against my own will.”. A look of quiet disdain passed through her façade. “Scholars who question my competence the minute I step foot into class!”.

“I want a wholesome class I can develop; playful but intelligent students who listen, argue and accept with respect. I may get the blow during BOD meetings every week for underperforming results, but what do they know of the quality of my classes? At the end of the day, the year-end results speak for themselves. I am in no competition with the others who stuff look alike exam questions down their students’ throats. It’s about teaching them how to apply the concepts, and not regurgitating memorized answers.” She sighed. A strand of graying hair fell across her forehead.

The next instant, the shadow lifted.

“But more importantly, what are we going to have next?” Her eyes gleamed. We looked at each other- one, a former student, the other, an experienced mentor. I, along with many other of her students in her 30 odd years in education, was living proof of her dedication. Decades may have separated our age, but the bridge to friendships transcends time. How I loved this woman. Her passion to teach, her courage to fight for what she believes in, her optimism spilling over even in the bleakest moments. And the love of food! That does me in anytime.

“Well, there’s one of the best tau fu fas just down the street…”

tonight

weird. i really thought i had it all under control. that leaving melbourne was a piece of cake, once you got all that not-so-important-junk thrown out of the tiny cramped room and the 100kgs worth of more-important-shit stuffed into suitcases ready to be flown home.

yeah, all it took was one flight back to summer paradise and i would start a new chapter of my life. no heart pangs, no melancholic daydreams.. zilch. absolutely nothing. i settled right back in, a little like how you would instinctively close a book after finishing it. this coming from someone who loved the over-proclaimed laidback lifestyle. it really was good, doing things at your own will.. sleeping whenever, or not sleeping at all.. fending and mending the self-nourished soul. making and stretching time, squeezing slots in.. doing grocery shopping like there was no tomorrow. the apartment was so cozy with all that keepsake around..

as a hoarder, i kept everything. name tags, cards, sugar cubes (mostly from AIESECers, and some so frayed at the edges they could tear any moment), tickets to every event ever went to, nice sms-es (copied down in a blue diary somewhere), envelopes, postcards.. anything that could possibly have a personal value in it, i kept it. the memories were just like yesterday. someone once said that i could possibly be living in the past. that passing comment stuck, for i was afraid that it might very well be true.

so how did i take one step forward and never looked back?

.. until tonight, that is.

something about tonight's little rendesvous caught me by surprise. just sitting at the overdue wooden table, abandoned by the waiters, lazing under The Curve's night's blanket. mildly amused, chuckling, talking about absolutely nothing and everything at the same time, seeing smiles, hearing laughter.. making waves. this is gonna sound so corny, but it was just beautiful. not perfect, but it's one of those times that you can look back on the night itself, and just be blown away by the simplicity of such pleasures. for me anyway. i really dont know how to put it into words, but im trying..

it's like, feeling so at peace that you actually forgot about the worries of the world during that piece of stolen time. and because you were actually in the moment, with armour and shield down, you could not have realized then how priceless that feeling was.. and hence the reflection thereafter. it is just.. wow. the lightness of heart, caught in that frame of mind.. ah, such beauty. all this rambling probably doesnt make sense unless you were there. or if you think just like me.

should have known that AIESEC has kept me together all this while.. despite breaking a few bad bones along the way. it's that subtle difference that makes you. and it's the people that make AIESEC. tonight was special. it reminded me of the times that we had, good and bad, but magnificent all in all. the times that i will no longer partake in, not in the near future anyway. the ease of conversation that just flows, and can go on the whole night if given the chance. the delicate you, an over-achiever beyond a doubt. you work your magic all the time. the amazing you, a most trusted friend and confidante. adept, capable, a pillar of strength. cant believe you're leaving too, it's gonna be weird not having you around. we squabble, but you know i love you. the steady you, so down to earth and and yet so full of hidden talent. the joyful you, how i wish i knew you earlier.. you have such a happy heart.
bowling was fun, guys. but the only feeling worse than leaving loved ones, is being left behind instead. please come back soon.

au naturel, the sanctuary detour

i wish i could paint..

if every stroke could take a piece of me away.
every movement, so languid and full-bodied that the release could free the tension.
the colours, splashed in all directions with no end at all..
freedom like never known before, beckoning across the white canvas.

i wish i could leave at once..
for greener pastures and a new beginning.
but how can i leave in peace, when there is so much that holds me back and stops me from running the extra mile.
for which is the bigger sacrifice,
the possibility of a better tomorrow, or the certainty of happiness today?

i wish i did not care..
because then i would not harbour hopes so high they drove me giddy,
unknowingly inviting the bitter taste of disappointment thereafter.
it's crazy, how i want so much to feel,
and yet loathe the entourage of emotions that keep expectations company.

and yet this is what makes me whole.
this is what makes me who i am today.
why i can lie on my bed and stare at the stars put up years ago..



and marvel at how they still glow in the dark.

i love you, but i hate what you've done to me.

the wounds can only make me stronger.

my Lovely Lace shirt says:

All I need to know about life I learned from my Teddy Bear

[insert pic of cute brown teddy bear face]

~ Hugs are even better than chocolate
~ There's no such thing as too many kisses
~ One good cuddle can change a grumpy day
~ Love is supposed to wear out your fur a little
~ It's okay to let your inside stuffing show now and then
~ Listening is as important as talking
~ Someone's got to keep their eyes open all the time
~ It's never too late to have a happy childhood
~ Everyone needs someone to hold them

funny how it only makes so much sense now when you've been wearing it to sleep for years.

homesong stories

waking up to find myself bathed in familiarity feels surreal.

nothing much has changed, nothing too drastic anyway. the curtains still shoulder the light beautifully, the sheets are in my favourite brown shade, the wardrobe is filled to the brim with clothes, knick knacks, diaries of the past.. and now, more junk brought back from melbourne. every door opened spells years of memories caught in mementos given from the heart.

yet i can't help but notice the subtle differences; things that go unnoticed unless you've been away for awhile. how the yellow tint has started show on the white water dispenser, how rain and shine has aged the teak wood furniture outside, how patches of water leakage are starting to show in the plaster ceiling above me, how the doors seem to have so many more scratches..

chester looks forlorn in his little corner, perking up every now and them to bark for attention. happy russell.. really doesnt seem all that happy anymore. could the lack of eyesight actually be getting to him? my heart breaks for these two. i wish i could see through their eyes, understand their longing, feel their pain.

living out of a suitcase isn't new anymore. time only halts for a breather when im not out catching up with friends, devouring local delicacies or running errands. times like these, when i have to force myself to sit down and reflect. because there are no classes to return to come february, because all the aunties and uncles prod me left right and centre for my future plans. questions im still finding the answers for.. answers that i've been running away from.

im 3 days late, but what have i learnt from the year of 2007?

the jubilant (and sometimes reluctant) graduate me.

more pictures soon.

heart to heart

sun & wine at port melbourne

pensive..

one of those times, when i turn to words for clarity of thought- a weirdly fulfilling way of digesting the spurts of emotion, to learn and see for myself how my mind works. there was a word that daryl and lx once used back at deli france in BSC, to explain why people write only when during gloomy days. hah, im one of those people.. dwelling in extremes- overflowing words for rain, narcissistic pictures for sunshine. all this while being horribly cryptic, possibly because im detail-phobic when it comes to me.. or because ive grown so accustomed to using the sensitivity shield; the less you know, the less i have to explain!=D
.. doesnt always work out well- creating more confusion that wanted, igniting curiosity beyond my sharing capacity..in all sincerity, it's unintentional=]

reading..

a rarity, as many would know. now a nightly ritual, to read until the eyes are heavy.. and yet still pushing on to the very last word.

i kissed dating goodbye (the revelation clears up the fog- thank you pigs). little women. a maid from heaven. boy meets girl. the buddha, geoff and me (back to you next year, heids). a life unleashed (well-timed, josh. thank you!). laughter, the best malaysian (tickles fly silly).

so much depth in each; sporadic statements all over that do you in till dawn. exceptional insight, subtle and inspiring. uniquely different in their own ways, a spiritual awakening, childhood re-visitations, cheer ups for the soul. makes me think all over again; something i tried to avoid during the year. a great spring clean though, sorting through the jumble pummeled deep inside. saying hello to the doubts that still linger, accepting new values, finding strength to see them through.

being comfortable..
could never equate to contentment.. not for long anyway. a part of me wants so badly to stay put, but a larger part pushes me along the parlous path. the roadblock up ahead barricades you into asking what's next? there is no correct answer, only a slow inching of distance forward from trespassing new grounds. precarious, but so tangible.. so close.

21 is only a number..

it sums up a reckless youth, an untimed horizon of living for today, a searching chapter selfishly defined. an indefinite amount of moments to remember, to cherish, to feed the soul.

been wanting to write about my AIESEC Experience.. will get to it soon.

the clock still ticks..

time to move out of the comfort zone- refreshed and fire rekindled.
new year's resolutions..?

(attempting to be) politically correct

6 old friends seated around an oversized table, last night's discussion was terribly enlightening and disturbingly frightening. stuck on a seesaw between kee's world of local pun, kampung boy mat and sustagenius ads versus hot belle (who chose the beast), slutty (when hypnotised by ja'afar) princess jasmine and sexy ariel ( who can sing underwater), the waitress must have heaved a huge sigh of relief to see off a group of noise leave too late into the night.

it is no startling fact, but this heightened awareness contrived by a ruthless discussion on the Malaysian government- it is a gnawing feeling of distrust enshrined by negative international press, secrets unveiled and underlying racial tension only discussed behind closed doors.

but who is to determine what is right?
by what standards do we aspire the authority to abide?
has there been and will there ever be a utilitarian framework of ethical judgements and shining transparency put to practice?

if anything, precedence breeds today's subtle but somewhat unsuccessful concealing act. unless there is a local jason bourne to save the day?


it is the same the world over.

agreed. humanity, in general, is too smart for the loopholes on the road. we all rejoice over public holidays, recoil at rising tax rates and rekindle the love for juicy tabloids. we take pride in luxurious cars, blaze through the city with anticipation of the vibrant nightlife, and take up that symbolic cheer of teh tarik over dented plastic tables.

i grew up with the loveliest "dik, nak tumpang ke..?" makciks as neighbours, a superstar athlete bestie who could beat me at the 100m sprint in her tudung and tracks, the fiercest indian jokers who made you laugh till you had stomach cramps, and a full-fledged (half) banana volleyball team who could not understand our competitors' mandarin. i still think ning baizura is beautiful, and that the enthralling performing arts industry in underrated.


in some weird and obscure way, i might have been affected by the admittedly biased NEP. along the way too, i realized it didnt really matter so much if i had a roof, some pocket money, an education, good fun and the bestest of friends. point is, i grew up happy.

i wouldnt trade the experience for the world, political injustice or not. im still going home.

this too, shall pass

surely it is not an overreaction of sorts, surely this must be a case of cat and mouse chasing nothing and everything at the same time? or you know, pulling the rabbit out of the hat after it miraculously disappeared before..?

you had your chance..

to see a friend step up.. and yet not to be there, to hear the laughter over barbeque.. from afar, to cover the tears with good cheer.. but dying a little inside. to be inspired to write.. but for all the wrong reasons. no, it is not the caffeine that makes my hands tremble tonight.

knowing isnt quite the same as sharing is it?

you had your share..

could be the result of crowd aversions and secret getaways. could be the reverse of a metamorphosis, a cocooning of thoughts.. hardening away into an empty shell, shielding a devolution of flesh. selfish, that is what this is. that reluctance should arise when taking a step back is for the betterment of most, if not all. the deviation of values, the pathetic feeling of rejection, the over-reliance on comfort taken for granted.

blissful ignorance was never an option was it?

no wonder the ferrero rochers sitting outside have been dwindling in numbers so quickly. if i stay awake long enough, it might do the disappearing act too.

choice

comes with a price.

a sacrifice, a stoical perseverance that either makes or breaks you.

the ultimate highs. your soul-breaking experiences. the wasted time and captured moments. the friends you hold close to your heart. your lovelies. your excessive consumption of gastronomical delights. your alchohol indulgence. the moments spent running away, from responsibilities.. and reality. your soft spot. the straying temptation. your endless laughter, and streaming tears. your fears unfaced. candid shots. the views beyond your imagination..

..the memory collage is beautiful.

in the driver's seat

with a shaky steering wheel. you wish you had more control, if only you knew which direction to go.

insidious pits..
every turn is littered with portholes. some large but shallow.. a few strategically obscured from view .. some you rather ignore because you refuse to acknowledge the consequences. you choose to play the fool.

no brakes..
every route taken is a step further away from home. the skeptic and the critic at odds with each other, racing towards the non-existent finishing line. no confetti for the champ, only the solace of self-justification. discipline and willpower going south, despite reality looming overhead. your mind tells you to reverse, but your foot slams down the accelerator. a capsize of your mind's sensibility.

diverging roads..
ever so frequent, another path emerges. another sacrifice to make with every choice you follow. or possibly, another chance to redeem yourself and move towards the light. baby steps, to make a difference.

broken mirrors..
distorting your view. you unwittingly close an eye to all except what you want to see. what catches your attention can only serve to beguile the gullible, to lure you deeper into an idealism of false security. a self-fabricated wall built from self-designed presumptions. a reiteration of unproductive thoughts.

where are the traffic lights to stop you from cruising around aimlessly?
where are the hidden cameras meant to deter breaking the speed limits?
why isnt there a good feeling about this journey?

the truth is you probably sent yourself on a mental guilt trip. a prolonged excursion that never quite settles for a destination because you are too busy kicking yourself to decide where to go. in fact, you are not even sure if you got over the resentment of the past. you fear too much of hurting others, but get hurt yourself. you seek approval from people you do not need it from. you are living in self-inflicted pressure, stretching yourself way too thin. a constant state of denial, a somewhat skewed faith in extreme optimism.

i want a change.
a purpose-driven life; simpler and with a focus. being selective is being effective.

what drives your life?

p.s. to add cheer to your day, try Copperpot's fine selection of delectable 2-in-1 dips. top 3 on the list include Lemon garlic prawns & avocado mayo, Chilli crab & spring onion and Cracked pepper & pesto. best enjoyed with crisp crackers, no expectations and the usual state of befuddlement.

the long walk home

was shorter and warmer than i thought it would be with so many things on my mind.

i feel like bitter rocket leaves and sweet spinach piled on with fermented hard-boiled eggs and tangy tuna. while fighting the strong urge to ramble, my mind flutters all over the place like a newly-freed butterfly.

i feel con-ny.
conflicting thoughts, contrasting personalities. consumed by emotions, connected only to the spread of letters under my fingers. contending with myself, endlessly contradicting my values. unfaltering concern, concealed. i must conform.

im thinking..

coffee, as it once again worked its wonders on me today. such a powerful drug; the tiniest of gulps can make my heart race for no reason at all. for all the tension, the warmth pulsing through my body and my cold hands, i blame the infamous long black. my type, definitely.

AIESEC, and how not a day has passes without indulging in it. how the info sessions can be so enlightening when you finally understand the complex but rewarding concept. how marketing the produt can be so challenging, and entertaining at the same time. how the passion in some is indefatigable- indirectly giving you that extra boost to feel the same. strive in the thick of mess.

change, and how a simple word can warrant completely different realms of understanding to different people. from colourful penang to vibrant bangkok to mind-numbing vacation work to unmatchable indulgences during chinese new year, the whirlwind of feelings have finally come to a standstill upon touchdown at melbourne's tullamarine airport. no matter how unfounded, there is rationale behind my actions that maybe only time can explain. one thing slipped though; it has only just hit me that it was the 5th of march yesterday.

unnecessary stress, of untimely reports and mindless work. of draggy meetings, and unending activities. of the same people, but new faces. the safe haven is barely 10 steps away, but i am 5 days behind. how i long for the comfort of those familiar walls that smile a million different smiles at me, and twinkle like stars at night. the words that are read so many times they remain etched in your mind. the inspirational posters, waiting to be hung up for my viewing pleasure.

it has only been a week, but it feels so much longer.

somewhere inside, there is a pipe leaking.


listen to natalie grant- the real me

cloudy skies

kl feels like a dream. it's as if summer just flew by in a cloud of holidays, catching ups, internships, home-cooked food and angpaus. like it never actually happened.

it's that time of the month again, where the what ifs chipmunks pop out from the log holes, staring at you with the juxtaposing forlorn eyes and cheeky smile.

when i first saw possums at the flagstaff gardens, i remember thinking they looked like chipmunks.
in fact my brother used to look like a chipmunk.

what if i didnt go back home for the holidays?
would i feel this lost?
what if i did a summer semester here?
would i have scored higher, with less distractions around?
would i be more involved in aiesec?
would i be more equipped with the technical expertise needed to get me through?
would i be more passionate, more optimistic.. more outspoken?
what if i did go home, but came back here a week later?
would i have escaped that fateful day of unfortunate events?
would my room be ready for me?
what would life be if i had grown up here my whole life instead?
would i turn out just like the rest of the ABCs, creamy white rosy complexios, high noses, distint accent?
would i have the same personality?
would i have the same values?

fayelove, i need who moved my cheese too. i hope it has done you some good.
HUGS, everyone.

mental explosions

in the span of one month, i have been up and down the joy ride so many times that it is getting harder to express clearly into words the true meaning behind life stories.

have you ever felt like you could detach yourself from being in your present moment, look around, and absorb the little spurts of reality around you? to be able to interpret what you see behind an inconspicuous facade?

you know how they say blind people have the sharpest sense of hearing? same concept, except now you're mute but you can still see the world's colours.

intentional acts. that split second expression hidden away behind a laugh. the tilted posture. the unmoving eyes but discreet lips whisperings words in a seemingly nonchalant manner. the observer. the talker. the suppressed. the attention-seeker. the flower. the pearl. the one who tries to prove. the one who doesnt mind being laughed at.

the stolen looks. whisperings behind the hand. backstabbing. head-to-toe analysis, behind your back. forced smiles. small talk. loose handshakes. scepticism. probing. sharing. seeking. wit laced with sarcasm banter. counter checks.

what strikes you iron-hot is that you are no different from them.

even when you know you are more fortunate than many, the hunger for more still remains. because nothing is ever enough isnt it? as long as someone else has a bigger slice of the cake, dissatisfaction lives.

it really is that hard to be the bigger person who stoops down to earn her/his respect yes?

daryl's nick says " What is Victory, but Greater Perseverance? "

it takes an angel these days.

what if

what if i told you that continuously pushing your way to the front does not get you any further?

it does not make you any more superior than your friends.
it does not make your life more fulfilling.
being centre of attention is not everything in life.
you need to learn how to step back every now and then.

what if i told you that i could see the deceit through your multi-faceted smile?

sheer superficiality.

what if i told you that i can feel the lies behind your one milisecond response lag?

maybe you were caught off-guard.
which is surprising, i thought you would have the rehearsed excuses at your fingertips ready to be expensed at any given time.

what if i told you that i caught the raw emotion in your eyes before you covered it with something else?

im not exactly sure what it was- fear that you said too much of yourself, uncertain about how much you should let on, and whether it would change the way people thought of you.
sometimes, we say things just for the sake of saying it.
mindless, meaningless jargon perfected over time.

what if i could guess your thought process, and sense the deliberated action that came after that?

what if i can calculate your moves before you calculated yours?

what if i told you the truth for once?

waterfalls

a broken spirit, a tired soul.

what do you do when you have spent hours of agonizing over notes never read before, and your conscience is heatedly debating whether to hit the sack and call it a night or brave the eleventh hours and risk falling asleep in the exam?

the morning air is so refreshing. the trees wave their green hands over you, welcoming you into the royal exhibition building. calm and soothing, the aura of tranquility embraces you for that few precious minutes.

the walk is so lonely.

what do you do when you have exhausted both your mental and emotional strength, and feel even more drained waking up from a nap? you have already forayed into all comfort food alternatives, and you are too tired to cry out for solace.

you reach a point when you are about as fragile as a porcelain vase balancing precariously on the edge of the table. any fleeting touch brings you crashing down, spiralling into the depths of despair never understood.

you become a baby, maybe even needier. but no one is there to carry you through and cradle you to sleep. 'sweet dreams' is merely a fantasy, a reverie of hope never attained. you stare blankly into space, contemplating a walk outside but fear the cold. your indolence overwhelms you, hindering any movement, any thought, any recovery. physical inertia.

phonecalls do not get through. frustration forces its way through. the sea of helplessness builds.
warmth is absent, comfort is scarce.

lost in time, the seconds feel like hours.

and then a simple are you okay moves you to tears.

suddenly the accumulation of every little insensitive remark, the guilt of unattempted work and the pressure to succeed unfolds into an avalanche of melancholia.

how can you lift the white flag when there is no resolution to end the war?

just breathe and walk away.