The Last Day

The date on the paper caught my eye
as I sent it, together with the rest of history,
into the machine's shredding teeth.

Almost a date to the day
the motion was set one year ago,
when I was asked if I was keen
to take up the study scholarship.
"Of course. If they give, I take".
Simple and straight.

And so, months flew past
as I clear the various tests and interview.
That measure and cut
the applying hopefuls
into cubbyholes of Can-s, and Cannot-s.
Thankfully, I was sliced and diced into the former,
just in time to step into the year of the Horse.

Even so, it felt like a distant future
or even a possibility that has yet to materialise
(even to me now).
In the months that followed,
everything was done
in preparation for my leaving.
Cementing processes.
Conversations with relevant people.
Making sure that everything still runs
even when I am no longer here.

And everything promises to run,
even when I will no longer be here.

And then I feel the pang of nostalgia.
The sense that everything feels good and nice
and I wonder if it is a good move after all
to leave this snuggly place.

And then the sense of paranoia.
The sense that everything is set up for my departure.
Probably the place doesn't need me anymore
(of course it doesn't; you just made yourself dispensable)

And back to the paper
that just went through the machine's teeth.
From a pile of history that
spoke of the trials and tribulations.
Of sated hunger from late dinners and rushed food.
Of anguish from repeated edits and incomprehensible instructions.
Of fatigues from 14hour work days and midnight walks for the ride home,
that saw me back at the same seat in the cube 6 hours later.

Perhaps then it is apt that I saw the date
at the machine.
To remind me that whatever before then
is like the paper,
with its whatever thoughts, theories and principles,
that whatever had past was gone,
and nothing like its old self.

As with me -
that the old me
is gone.
Starting from that day last year
When I was asked if I was keen.
"Of course.
If you give, I take".

A whole new experience,
A widely different perspective.
A vastly different group of people.

If you give, I take.

多五天....

熟悉的生活也就要告一段落了

“It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end.” 
― Ernest Hemingway

What We Use

Things. Things? Things!! thingsthingsthingsthings....

There were the repeating thoughts over and over again for the past few weeks as I was moving. After a good one and a half year run on my apartment that got such a good offer that I can't refuse, and when school is happening in August, I decided to move back to parent's place for the time being while searching for my next good buy.

Moving back into an old space somehow gives a new perspective. Pre loved things with no more functional reasons are still hanging around, like clothes that I never even remembered I had them, that coin bank that was chucked at the back of the shelf, that bag that I hadn't used for ages....I am, categorically, a hoarder. And I am sure I am not the only one...space that I emptied out was somewhat invaded by my sis, whose bags and clothes far surpassed me when I was her age. Looking at all the things that I am surrounded, I suddenly wonder how much things that one really need.

The last few years have seen me become more conscious about...things that I consume or use. It started with shark fin, which led me to think about why we eat the way we do. I wonder why we buy so much stuff we don't need, taking resources from the things we depend on for our survival (the sea, the land), and then make them redundant to become waste and toxic, ironically , to the very things that we depend on for our survival (the sea, the land, the air).

Especially with my own place, and a small one at that, I start to be more circumspect about how I live

• I start to recycle stuff, re-selling them or even donate them for free (craiglist is dabomb! Salvation army too!), just that it is a pain to find recycling bins, especially those which are not already abused and treated like normal rubbish bins.

• I re-discovered repurposing via Pinterest (the DIY page always excites me no matter what..kinda bring out the nerd in me), and repurposed stuff into wrapping paper holders, watering jug, box for all the laundry bags and knick knacks... next project, I'm going to redo the face of my old Ikea clock since the mechanism is still working but the face was crumpling on me. 

• I start to take less plastic bags and shopping bags (do I really need that bag to carry a small piece of puchase? Nah, I'll just dump it into my bag), and I carry my own bag for grocery shopping and other stuffs. This actually solved my problem as I was struggling with the number of shopping bags and plastic bags that I have that threatened to overwhelm my drawer space. "Aiya so easy..just throw them away if they are getting in the way!" Sure....so these bags were only useful for that short time from store to home, which seem a great deal for nothing for the material and effort that went into making them..If so, then why take them in the first place?

• I have my own Keep Cup that I use for my daily kopi runs ( I hate Starbucks and the likes, give me a cup of kopi anytime. Exceptions though for artisan coffee :p ), which at least saved 15-20 disposable cups on my account every month (though I decided to stop buying when they raised the price -  a cup of kopi for $1.60?? No thanks.) and I declined taking disposable cutlery if I can help it. Hey, it's even easier to eat with proper fork/spoon/chopsticks that I keep in my office than those filmsy plasticky things.

• I bring my own water bottle and not buy bottled water if I can help it. Note the latter caveat. I am not going to refuse bottled water if that is all I have access to at the moment. The leap of faith happened in India, where we, being worried about drink water even though it was boiled, tried to buy bottled water in Lachung, North Sikkim but was told it was banned. Why? Because the water there is from the mountains, and technically, spring water. Plastic bottles will only pollute their environment, and why would you want to drink water from those plastic bottles..when spring water is all around you? Right..but I dont trust the pipes :( Anyhow, we drank the boiled water and yes, we survived. So, why do we need bottled water in the first place when clean water is all around us in Singapore?

• I buy clothes only when I have enough hangers or rather, if I am willing to "give up" a hanger. It started when I bought this set of white hangers from Daiso when I first shifted to my place just cos I am tired of hangers of all jumbled colours, and guess what, Daiso stopped carrying the white hangers ever since. Crap. Either I get hangers of a different colour, or I just live with it. But I stuck to the latter. It somewhat made my life easier as I don't have to fight with the hangers anymore (you mean your hangers never get entangled in the wardrobe because they were cramped so close together?) and it has definitely made me change my shopping habits. I only buy stuff that I really, really like, since getting any additional clothes will force me to "decommissioned" another piece. And if you think about it, where did the cheap clothes come from? If they are so cheap, that transfer in cost could probably have been a result of cheap (exploited?) labour. 

Well, it was not as if I don't take plastic bags at all - I still do when I am running low on garbage bags (I always favoured NTUC plastic bags - just the right size!) and there were times when I decided to just trash recyclable materials when I didn't have time to seek out the recycling bins, or succumbed to using disposable cutlery when otherwise, there weren't any other things I could eat with. But just the thought about where these things came from and how many hands did they pass through before they became what they are, how long are you going to use them for (30 mins maybe for that disposable cup?) and where they going to end up - landfill? Incinerator? I am sure like any other things on Earth, there has to be a more meaningful purpose for every object and matter, than for them to only serve a short life span before dumping them into the great mass of nothingness.

Just a matter of putting some thoughts into what we use, when we are using them., but still, it never amaze me just how much waste one person can even generate on a normal routine basis.

I digress. For the past week, I have bee ruthlessly thrashing those things that I can't salvage, listing out items on craiglist to sell off and giving away for free, beside donating items which no one will take up to the Salvation Army.

Hopefully a new start again on being bogged down by less "things".

Literally found this in the middle of my "rough paper" stack. Was clearing the top few shafts after they were scribbled on, and found these three lines staring at me:-

I don't even know when these were written (they were written by me alright..I definitely recognise my ugly handwriting).

How creepy. 

In these last few weeks, I have been fretting a lot.  A LOT. And of course, I attribute it to my impending departure. I know why I am doing this cognitively, and I have dishing out the rationale to anybody who ask, but somehow it sounds hollow and contrived to my ears. Sometimes it may take a while to surface, but when I try to search inwards for a plausible reason, I can't exactly fish up any form of thought or feeling why I an feeling this way. 

Really need some reflection time, before any real alarm starts to ring, like how it happens whenever I know I hit a "bad boyfriend" patch.

Facing my demons

Recently I have been pretty conscientious in getting to the yoga classes (good for me!). Bored and dangerous, I figured that I probably have a find a channel to release some of those pent up energies and a focal point, before i really get cranky and dangerous..like make some CSM (career suicide move) or something (at least not at this point when I am literally counting down the days).

I was one hell of a frazzled self when I stepped into the studio. I was waiting for a few conversations to happen at work the whole day, which of course didn't. And I guess even if they did, I probably wouldn't have handled them well. As usual, I tried to sit in meditation for a while before class starts, and that's when the thoughts came flooding in...

Why do you think it will happen?

Ok, maybe I didn't deserve it

How sad your life is right now..if only...

No, no..why do you even think you warrant the attention?

Ya, you and your impatience and nasty temper. What made you think that they want to talk to you? If your temperament had been better, maybe you will be more approachable and wouldn't cause so much grief to your parents and the people around you.

I really want to get out of the rut! I refuse to let this episode bog me down! I swear I will live a larger life! For no other reason, just because!

As you can imagine, it got pretty crowded and loud in there for a while. I can feel my face was scrounging up and eyes tearing at the last part for a bit..

And then, suddenly, one clear voice rung out....

"Why so drama..."

(I swear it was as Singlish as it could get)

And everything lifted and became dead quiet and calm. I opened my eyes and suddenly everything around me looked so different without the red hue, realising that I am going back to the bad habits of creating "stories" again..the vicious loop of self criticism and denial, creating the negative fantasy world where I dish out all possible bad scenarios and lay every blame onto myself. 

Once that idea was sorted out, it felt like someone turned on the light and all smokes and mirrors disappeared. That laid out a smoother path into the actual class, which was great as usual, and probably easier with the calmer mind.

And as it turned out, things turned out quite different than what I thought..the messages did come on my way back home - my boss tried to look for me after I left the office; he sent me a short text on his thoughts, and my replies were all cordial and polite..so all was good in the end. 

No more drama - easier said than done though. Well, at least one thing that I am definitely grateful for, is the chance for the thoughts surfacing earlier on in the evening, so that I can face my demons right on.  Not exactly the most pleasant thing to do, but better that than them lurking in the dark waters.

病

今年下来，每一次出国回来都会大病一场。太弱了，温差一大，旅程太累，身体就垮了。

也难怪，最近没好好地照顾体魄 。运动量一直没提高，一而再，再而三地生病，要提高也难。吃方面，也没之前那么警惕。蔬果菜类维生素摄取的少，免疫力也受打击了。

这次病了有大概一个星期，身体虚弱，做什么都提不起劲儿。觉得整个人昏昏沉沉，精神也觉得消沉了些。这个星期，就这样浑浑浊浊地过了，觉得挺浪费的。

好想去一次长跑...下半年，可别再那么容易受病了。

Quiet - Susan Cain

The sub-title of the book caught my eye - "The Power of Introvert in a World that Can't Stop Talking". Especially the last 5 words, those especially resonate.

When I told some friends that I was an Introvert, they were surprised. I guess to most, I appear outgoing, engaging, and definitely not an Introvert (especially when I was pushing my agenda during work meetings). I often wonder why too, until the book introduced the idea of a "fake Introverts" - introverts who feigned being extroversion when the social setting requires or when they really feel passionate about any issues.

I knew (or at least I thought I knew) was during JC when the school arranged for us to do an MBTI test. My MBTI score was INTJ, and I remembered that I was that slightly confused or disappointed of the "I" rather an "E" score - I can be quite boisterous at times, and hell, I was playing in team sports and ECA committees all my student life. But since I was a marginal "I", and it was explained that marginal scores could swing as we grow up. So that was it.

My score did change, but not in that "I" department. 

I knew I love solo activities like reading, and spending time working on stuff alone (like, thinking how to upcycle stuff). I like my space, physically and mentally - I set up my cubicle so that half my space is shielded off a cabinet, when I could finally feel "safe" to settle in and start focusing.  I cringed once when a colleague stepped into my cube beyond the cabinet (!!!) without asking and I could feel all my hair standing on the back of my arm and back. 

I hate making small talk, and always find meeting new people pretty pressuring as I have to think very hard what to say and at the appropriate moment (like, when is the appropriate moment to slip off without being rude. Had to feign some detour a couple of times so that I don't have to speak to acquaintances for longer journeys). It's always hard to find people to talk to about topics that I am interested in, either I don't find or feel the right frequency to talk to them about those pet topics (I rather chew over them in my own head) or it's too deep for some people's comfort. Know me long enough though, we can talk for long hours about anything under the sun.

Giving presentation terrifies me. I used to have weekends and weekends of pub hopping but now I find that they drain me; I definitely prefer to go home and do my own stuff, unless the invitation comes from someone close to make it worth my effort to get out of the house. 

I wonder how did I survive adolescence, especially majority of the time with a team of 20 hockey girls, where we spent so much time together, and for some extended periods, cooped up in hotels for training trips and tournaments. I was known as the silent (and often grouchy) one who didn't talk much or what I was thinking about. Going around to team mates rooms to talk (and gossip) were tiring affairs; I would rather read or do cross stitch in my own room. I  remember having bouts of doubts, like why couldn't I be more lively like some other team mates who were having more boisterous and in my eyes, definitely more popular.

But survived I did. I decided that I was definitely more comfortable doing the things that I like. Sure, there are times when I still felt envy of people who are definitely more exuberant, more outgoing, but I think I have come to terms with it (or I think i have).

And now, it's like in those TV shows when you had to relive through those adolescence fears again, I wonder if I will survive school, and in this time, probably requiring a higher level of participation... I am cringing just thinking about it.