It came back again. That self-loathing, repetitive, rampaging thoughts. It left me tired, numb and knocked out of any semblance of life left in me.
I felt so small, so insignificant. Like an asian subordinate in a world filled with people who seemed enlightented with the Western mind.
I was told that each and every life was meant to matter.
In the neo-liberal, Western educated world, everyone should "follow their dreams" and work hard to be outstanding, and thus deserve their hard work.
My life, coming this far, should matter, and should shine.

But yet, just when I turned 33, it seemed like Time is robbing my chances away.
What have I done? What have I done so far, to impact?
The answer is, after embarking on a 6 year journey studying here and there overseas, nothing much. My works are pretty insignificant. Because I have not worked as hard as I ought to. Because I couldnt find the confidence within myself to match up to engage with those that I need to engage with at this level.

At the end of the day I am still that unconfident, subordinate asian girl who says yes to everything and is meek and docile like I was trained to be. Like my mother and aunts were. Like most of my peers who grew up with me. I couldnt escape the baggages of my fears and past. I couldn't break through to be that outspoken lady, heavily involved with #metoo rights and other pertinent that are happening in the world. I am confined to cute things, as an escape.

Or maybe it could be that my form of activism is one that of love and subtlety. I hope I could change the world, one person at a time, by showing how God loved me, through the way I am patient to love them, through my cooking, through patience and time. Have I impacted people this way? I dont know. I hope so. Is my form of "activism" productive? What "kpi"s can I use to prove my worth? I dont know. What are so-called "Key performance indicators" Do kpis mean everything? Do they retain quality? I am not sure. For one thing, kpi are really but a performance for universities. KPIs have turned universities into a coldhearted business. Is it really for teaching quality education to students, to spend time to nurture them, or is it a way to rake in rankings and hence funding? I hate the word KPIs. Keynesian bullshit. But yet, could I think of an alternative way of life that works without such indicators and targets to set pace? I cant. Because we are all raised in this capitalist world. To let go of KPIs means to retreat to obscurity and die in obscurity. Which defies neoliberal values that tell us how important our individuality are to make it big in this world.

I am a dreamer, I am an idealiser. To put it bluntly I am lazy. Because dreamers spend more time day dreaming and wondering what are they doing, instead of doing what is needed. My inside world is full of Amy-wonders, and sometimes I spend too much time dwelling inside that I forget to come out. I dont strive hard. Maybe sometimes occasionally I do. And I am ashamed of not striving. But then again I ask myself, do I want to be striving hard for my whole life? Is this how I want to live? But if I dont strive, then I sink down again to this vicious cycle of emptiness and self-reproach wondering why am I insignificant.

Sigh.

Here I am again... in Hyderabad

Hyderabad, mere pyare sahar hai

yahan main phir hain

I came to you broken, and here I am, still broken

Perhaps its the balm of time, or the trials of life

I wear my brokenness like laurels on my crown

Not as glory, neither pride,

but as a testament to an acceptance

Of my position in the universe

as subordinate to God

My sins, my temptations

Came and dwelt within me

The thoughts passed in my head,

my body compelled to act

but my soul restrained itself

my rational thoughts admonished me

I sat there, wondering what I have become.

I always thought of obliterating my life

But now, I'm beginning to embrace it

Embrace the ugliness, embrace the weak

Embrace all that is undesirable

Because I'm beginning to appreciate

What it feels like to feel

The movement of bodies

The cacaphony of lives, messy yet synchronized

I'm a sinful mess, but perhaps also a precious mess

In God's eyes

Always work in progress,

Never resting on my laurels

however beautiful they may appear to be

Why I like Crowd Lu

Crowd Lu Guang Zhong.

What a weird English name. I came to know of this treasure of a singer earlier this year, while scrolling through Hua Chen Yu's MVs. Hua Chen Yu was introduced by Angeline. I started to like his songs a bit as he is between rock and strange romantic melodies. And then for some reasons Crowd Lu's 鱼仔 kept coming up in the play list. At first I was put off by his MV because I thought he was an Alex Su look alike, and he was darn ugly and moody with such a glum and ugly face for his MV, as well as really weird looking spectacles. But his songs kept popping up. And his glasses were so similar to the ridiculous reading glasses that I had. So I was curious and actually listened and watched the MV. And I found it really beautifully sung and meaningful. The lyrics were beautiful, not some cheesy hapless love song of a person falling in love. And I came to find out that he acted in a serial drama. I finished watching the drama in a few days. His weird sense of humor and social awkwardness felt a little like me. He was born in the same year as me. Then I was hooked.

One of my most favorite songs in his collection was 明载仔。Although I don't really know what it meant, but it felt so nostalgic, so to the heart. It reminds me of the feeling when I reminisce my childhood days, and the comfort that tomorrow will be better because of the people who support me.

Then I booked his concert tickets, and now I am a fan. I can't stop listening to his songs everyday. It makes me calm and comfortable.

Grading assignments

Today marks the first day I graded assignments, albeit by video. It. is. so. much. fun. Some students were absolutely ridiculous in their videos, but so, so hilarious. Sam and I graded from 3.30pm to 10pm. We spent the time swearing, laughing, and at times bent to tears in humour.

I'm starting to love my life as a TA and student life in Hongkong. 

Discernment

I have seen much, but there is more to see. I observe, silently. non reacting.
I ponder, why people relate to others the way they do. I mull over it.

I look deeper beyond words, the expression, the eyes, the smile, the tone.

written on 15/11/12

My little world of thoughts, I'd never thought I would come back to reread these memories. Why it has been almost 8 years since I created this space.

Who would know life would take me in this crazy direction, writing from a hostel room in Hyderabad, India. It's been a whirlwind of events and emotional journeys I have embarked on. In my lowest and lost moments, I never know I would come back to sort out my thoughts here. What has made me come back? What had upset me? 

In life, all journeys start out promising, but are often met with setbacks. I too, started this journey brimming with promise and hope. But along the way, I felt that I couldn't continue any more. I was reluctant to give myself that discomfort and pressure to continue. But yet, not doing what I thought I should do, also took away the meaning or the purpose of my life, which was once everything to me. The basis and foundation of my relationship, the career choice, the friends I bonded to, all revolved around this basis. Most importantly, to God whom I love and shared such a close relationship to, I swore that I would follow Him. But now, I stand alienated. My failures I couldn't accept. His work seemed too much for me. I wanted the easy way out. I just cannot find the strength to press on any more. I thought of giving up, countless times. I wouldn't even want to start the list of self-pitying and envying about others, that's not even helpful. 

If anything good were to come out of this episode (which I am still mulling in), is that I have learnt truly how to be humble and not think that I am better than others. Who am I to judge others when I am already in such a bad state. Before I am quick to judge, I know everyone has their strengths and flaws. 

There is only one way, and that is forward. 

My grades are  bad, my spirituality down in the dumps. What can I do? There is only one semester left; there is only time I can play with, and hard work. I wouldnt say I will put in hard, hard work, but I guess, for every waking second and minute of feeling that aching failure, I could only try? If I try to pray and plan everyday, at least I could say I tried? 

Life has choices. I could choose to give up on life, and see my future tumble down in darkness, or I could just press on. Why should I press on? What attractions lie in the all- perfect family and life that I would be having? Why would I deserve such wonderful life ahead? Or then I would ask, why would I reject that wonderful gift that God has blessed me with?

Yes I do make mistakes, I do lack wisdom and knowledge, but is that enough that I should feel embarrassed and unaccepting of myself? Or will I blatantly look squarely at life with my cuts, bruises and soiled self?

Written in December 2013

Of Discipline....

Everyday I wake up to struggles within myself. Struggles of the longing to go home, to spend time with family, friends, to enjoy my beautiful Singapore.

Yet I am here, in what seems like a never ending quest for education. A fellow PhD mate just commented that he has only came across one person who could complete her PhD in 4 years. The rest took longer. I went pale at that. I was hoping to finish it in 3. My heart sank a little. But I will still try to do my best.

It has been 5 years of being transient moving in and out of my country for my studies. And another 3(4?) years more. My heart longs to go home, but my aspirations push me further. Thinking back of all the special moments of friends' weddings I have missed, the moments they had their babies, classmates' gathering, I was not there. Friendships are hard to maintain when one is overseas. Then I will come back after a long time, and we catch up where we stopped. And it goes on, but it always feels like we stopped in time when I'm away, and I come back again and time moves on. Time is subjective. But physical aging is not.

But for the lost time that I disappear, I assume another life in another place. I become an essay churning machine, reading and producing essays one after another, reading theories of strange European thinkers and reproducing them as if I belonged in their society.

I appreciate the steep learning curve and the deep change in worldviews and thought since I started my journey. But with every investment it comes at a price. For me, the price was alienation, loneliness. I dream of the day everyday, that I can be home again. I look at Baloo's face and promise him that we will do our best, to have a real home for him one day. For now, my love is sufficient to build him a temporary home in his heart.

Days of writing... revived (?)

Writing.... is part of my life, part of who I am. Writing helped to define who I am, writing helped in my struggles reconciling flesh and thoughts, between what I appeared on the outside and who I really am on the inside. 

I grew up as an awkward person, using my body to resist typical norms and practices, yet at the same time, being affected by it. My refusal to sensualize myself as a teen, my appearance always looking lost and un-transcending the borders of a child and womanhood, was a sort of resistance to the pressures around me that told me what I should conform to. Yet, these very acts I put on myself, put a strain on me as I observed the reactions people had towards me, and I felt, at that point, rejected and hating on myself, hating on the world. Writing, drawing, dreaming, was that escape into my own world, where I could be myself, above flesh, into the world of human consciousness, larger than life. 

The days of blogging are almost over, visual technologies advanced so much that visuals are texts today. Videos and pictures depict daily life. Sometimes I still struggle over "millennial" styled pictures where I cannot appreciate how the picture is in anyway related to the caption. But as I move along with #insta trends, and busy-ness, I stopped writing. I started painting, baking making other stuffs. But something felt missing. I cannot seem to find completeness in the things I create, without words to reflect who I am. 

Words are life.

My writing and thought processes also needs to be honed. Since I am doing a PhD, writing is essential. I need to learn to write daily, write efficiently, improve the way in which I express professionally, academically. I need to be deft with words, so that it can come out of my mouth beautifully and coherently. 

This post commences the start of journal-ling my thoughts, (as I depart from posting on Facebook), to  let my readers aka friends and family get a sense of how I am doing, what I am doing, whats on my mind without me having to explain to them only when I get back home. 

Looking back...

This is me, revisiting my blog of 9 years, looking back at the hey day of posts that I blogged from 2006-2008. The younger me, more emotional, more hyperactive and searching for the identity that seals me. Looking back, its a long way I have come. A long, long way. I've seen the world much, traveled much and stayed at a place shun by many. I took the step of faith and plunged myself into a world unfamiliar, and I am happy with that decision in my life. My emotions are more stable, people don't frighten me as much as last time, and I'm more open with my feelings. Even the journeys ahead doesn't seem to frighten me as much as before.

My relationship with God has no longer been based on my emotions, but based on trust and knowing Him. I surely can still do better in my devotions with Him, which has been lacking of some time. My brain is not as active as usual and my thoughts have become a tad duller. Thats why I reckoned coming back to blogging, to put out my thoughts into physical words can churn some deep thinking and reflections in my life.

Personal problems/ family problems still do exist in my life, but I have matured in my ways of handling the situations. No longer I base so much expectations and emphasis of what my parents think or react towards me; in some ways there are still some expectations, but I have ceased to relate my own self worth with their actions and words to me. If one can speak of a kind of detachment in the world, it is to be to know who I am in God, my self worth and potentials as a person, than to expect anyone else to define who I am. I am still trying to learn and apply this into my life, but its a practice I gained over staying away for some time, and learning to be financially independent as well.

As of late, I'm in need again of some consolidation of my thoughts, of my mother and sister chewing my brains away from the recent Taiwan trip. I'm not interested to recall the details, but I just wished sometimes more empathy and understanding can be shown by my mother. To be faulted, maligned over tiny details of buying/ not buying things, managing finances and not even asking whether I was coping well, as really a little too unsympathetic. But as my sister had ate my brains first before the trip, I'm too tired even to feel angry. I just feel... numb. I think there are better things to worry about than this, like my future PhD journey ahead, which is really a little daunting for me.

2 Timothy 1:7New International Version ^: For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline.

Why do I feel like I've seen far more than my actual time on earth?

Why does the heart seem so burdened and heavy?

Why are the things around me out of control and beyond my means?

The world is huge and lofty

Mere humanity, with egos larger than life

Attempts to build a palace from their flimsy nests

Which gets crumbled by the sweep of the earth

Did we realise we were'nt made to reign

But only made in our own limits

To be accountable watchmen

Of the things bestowed to us

Issues come crashing to us like the tidal waves

What can we do?

We are as small as the ants to the waves

We patch on the delicate surface

Which simply gets torn

With just a ripple from the waters

Did we realise we were not made to reign

A huge world with its universe will not be tamed by men

The cosmic laws bow not to us

What is man?

Who appears like a mist in this place

And vanishes soon after,

Leaving but a little trace?