Un chien andalou

These days I find myself becoming a realist more than ever. Imagination doesn't easily entice me anymore - the wave of reality tends to sweep me back into this seeming pothole of stressful college life. Surely working life must be more tedious than this, and yet I fail to recognize the given graces I have received.

It's strange, really. I don't find excitement striding by the fiction novels section in the bookstore anymore. I don't prance about in glee when I see the new installment to the science fiction trilogy I was so ensconced with a while go. I examine the covers of recommended reads, read the synopsis at the back, only to discover that I've come across another cliche tale of two war torn souls, or of individuals attempting to start anew and yet have the past chase them.

It doesn't affect me anymore, and that in itself, affects me.

And you know what else is strange? Listening to M83's Hurry Up, We're Dreaming album about two years after it's release. Previously, I've only ever heard Midnight City, Reunion, When Will You Come Home? as well as Train to Pluton, but even so, in inaccurate order. I don't know why this matters to me, but it somehow does. I guess M83 just instills this sense of surrealism within your psyche that it arrests your ability to think logically and you somewhat just forget what you really mean to say in the first place.

Having said that, there's really nothing more satisfying than driving at a hundred on a highway, college bound, just as the sun is coming up while listening to Midnight City. Or any other track on the 2 disc deluxe album.

On a slightly more hopeful note, I think I'm a little more optimistic now in life. I've come to realize that it's okay to be me. It doesn't matter whether or not my college friends care about me or what I think, or whether they even see me as a friend in spite of my inability to connect with their thoughts in Mandarin. It doesn't matter that I don't have a boyfriend now in college and that my parents will see to it that I don't get involved in any relationships until I graduate. It doesn't matter what people say about my ability to speak Chinese, as long as I know fairly well enough that I can and that I am the decider of the language I choose to utilize in communication.

It doesn't matter that I hate being associated with individuals of a certain excessively populated group I constantly hang out with and not being able to hang out with people I think I can click with. It doesn't matter that once this semester is over, I may almost return to my state of loneliness again because chances are my Honey Boo Boo, Mei Mei and Kennard (no nickname for him) will drift apart from me, just as they did during the summer sem when I had no mutual classes with them. It doesn't matter that my opinions aren't counted for, because apparently everything I say is too complex and nobody wants to talk about the hard stuff so I'll just save them for the future when I get to give my very own TED talk.

It doesn't matter that I'll be stuck here longer than most of my peers, because at least I know what I'm getting myself into and I will be prepared for that life-changing moment when it comes. It doesn't matter that I'm a little slow at getting the things I want, or even need, because I know that life isn't simply about right here and right now - good things will come to us in the right way, at the right time. It doesn't matter that I have to have a little less, because my parents work hard for every single thing that I own right now, including this laptop in which I am constructing this blog post on and the broadband in which my connection to you is being established.

I couldn't be more grateful for having a little less, because it makes me appreciate life more.

I must admit, I was about to burst after all that pressure, and all the stupid questions people imposed upon me. I really didn't need another "Hey, you look tired, go and sleep," or an "Are you okay?" that comes out of obligation and of no concern. I often play it off pretty well when faced with the falsity of expressions, but this week was the final straw. I was just so tired, so tired of all the stupid jokes, of all the subliminal discriminatory antics, of all the unwanted innuendos. I had enough.

But if there's anything I've learned from the past eighteen years of my life where these situations have taken place time and time again, from primary school to high school and even now, in university, it's the fact that I don't need everything to be happy. I only have one decision to make, and it's important that I choose what is right.

And I choose happiness.

Therefore, I also choose sleep. Because I know well enough that I am simply tired, and that when I wake up tomorrow morning, I'll be fine again and all this anger will dissipate into the artificially cooled air I am currently breathing.

Je t'aime. One aunt.

Going somewhere

With the end of the year inching closer, I'm beginning to realize that my time here in Malaysia up until my departure to the States (and hopefully beloved California) is running fast. I haven't quite figured how to put my current emotions into words, so I thought I'd do a short photo blog post instead. These shots, as you may have predicted, were from my trip to Singapore during the summer break this year. I don't remember the last time I ever delved in photo editing (no, Instagram does not count) and although I'm losing a huge amount of sleep tonight before my hiking trip tomorrow, it's been a pretty therapeutic endeavor. It feels as if a part of me has returned, and I am finally at peace with myself. Catharsis, to say the least.

This upcoming winter (well, not really in Malaysia) break will see me take on Bangkok and possibly, two part time jobs. It's truly a rarity to be on two vacations in the same year, but I praise God for everything. I praise Him for the fact that I'm still alive and breathing, as cliche as it sounds. It truly is a blessing to be out and about, rekindling a lost love for a long, untouched hobby and spending time with the people you love, knowing that every second is to be counted for.

And I couldn't ask for anything more, the good and the bad. I have more than I'd ever imagined I would have, and all glory goes to Him.

The flu bug

I haven't always been a fan of taking breaks on the basis of health circumstances, but I think I can let this one go. I've been taken aback by the virus that's been going around lately due to the fluctuating weather conditions and flurry of activity as the end of the year approaches, and am currently resting at home. I'm acutely aware that there's plenty of deadlines that need to be accommodated, but when the flu bug gets you - IT GETS YOU. Fortunately, I'm not as helpless as I was yesterday evening when I was down with conjunctivitis, flu, sore throat and mild body aches. As of now, only my throat is proving to be an absolute nuisance but I think I can take not being able to sing for the next couple of days than having to deal with a swollen eye in that same timeframe.

Earnestly, I think this unplanned hiatus is a blessing in disguise. I don't recall the last time I ever properly sat down on a decent enough chair and decently enough reflected on the battles I daily fought while allowing my mental wounds to heal. It's always been about getting something done, or spending time with people before they officially drift out of friendship and love, or even simply making sure not a second goes wasted in the day. Time and time again, I've unconsciously put everything else first and "I" just haven't made it into my own list of priorities yet. The supposition that work and loved ones are above all has overwhelmed me and the phrase "You can rest when you're dead" seems a rather legitimate motto to abide by as of late. Simply put, the notion of borrowed time permeates the very recesses of my mind, disallowing me from ever contemplating rest as a viable option. I guess all of this somewhat snowballed into one and sent me knocked off course for a bit.

And so the question arises - how have I fared recently? Physical maladies aside, I am quite well in most endeavors. The academic load never seems to decline as the pace has quickened lately, but I have been matching it rather well. As for CF and church, the end is speedily approaching with the occurrence of the CF picnic for the former and GY Camp in the latter. There's been a lot of proposals due and fundraising activities have been underway in the past few weeks, but I think it's safe to say that all activity has been effective in manner. Moreover, contributing to the fundraising has enabled me to bond with some of the youth leaders I haven't been speaking to in a while. Their constant encouragement has brought me back to cell again, which has inevitably expanded in my absence. There are so many newcomers lately that I have begun to lost track, but I praise God that His work continues to be done even in the midst of trial and tribulation.

I never imagined cell would have evolved into such a vibrant entity since the departure of key people who made cell what it was, but God is ever faithful by ushering in young blood whom I hope will someday carry on this legacy just as well. Similarly, time has seen me become the youth leader I signed up to be as I made difficult decisions with the intention of obeying and honoring God, and I've found myself relating to the younger and new attendees of cell as I share my testimony on how God has been faithful in upholding me throughout life in trying times. These little things are what reaffirm my faith and they remind me that I do not carry on in vain, but that a seed has been planted in the lives of others.

I wish I could stay here for as long as I want to and continue sharing with you the goodness of God and the curiosities that have struck my feeble mind, but I must rest. These pills are making me drowsy, and I need to harness enough energy to finish my assignments later in the day. Until I recover, you will just have to be satisfied with this brief account.

I must say this, though. If you've stuck with me since the very beginning you discovered this blog and have kept on reading, even in the midst of hiatus and in the midst of dreary, depressing posts, I thank you. I thank you that you've been faithful. I do not thank you for prying into my life and granting me attention - no, that is not my intention. But instead, I am grateful that every word has been read, that every photo has been savored visually and that every fiber of my soul that emanates through my work has acquainted itself with you. Writing is a passion. It connects my soul to yours, and yours to mine. There's really more to it than just words, it's the communing between two eager, anticipating souls.

So thank you for sticking with me through it all. Someday when I do publish my own books or write about the things that I feel and care for, I will look back and remember all of you. Know this, I will never forget my first batch of readers. Ever.

The oblivion of growth

It baffles me how adults and the elderly find growth such an amusing prospect. It was a thought that struck me a few days ago when I bumped into an old friend of mine from piano class, along with her mother at church. While I was surprised to see them there, especially since it's been four years now since our last encounter, I think they were even more taken aback over the brief reunion. My friend didn't say much in particular, but her mother was astounded at the sight of me. Apparently I'd lost some weight (that's what they all say) and had become prettier, according to her. Personally, I never take such compliments into account, although I did thank them and wished them well on their way. Anyhow, this occurrence made me reflect on the numerous encounters I've had in the past few weeks with people who have been a huge faction of my childhood, whom I haven't seen in the longest time until as of late. Their responses towards me, although in varying forms of speech, were unanimous. I had grown, and it somewhat fascinated them that I did.

Well, isn't that strange, considering how we're constantly told that we know ourselves best and yet the slightest difference on ourselves go personally unnoticed, but picked out by others?

I have yet to be presented with answers as to why older people react as they do when they finally see me or my sister at reunions after having not laid their eyes on us for an extended period of time. And there's also that question of if we're fit to be betrothed to someone when they know very well marriage is a concept that takes its course in a timely manner. Even though I see their good intentions and their wildly bygone sense of humor, it puzzles me how such sentiments come into play au naturale.

When I look at myself in the mirror, I see the same girl I was for the past eighteen years of my life and I begin to question if I was any different back then from the person I am now. Surely, certain changes have taken place in growth or in character, but why does its occurrence interest us in the first place? One of the answers frequently employed resound that growth is directly proportional to the passing of time. I for one, find that difficult to argue upon, but that cannot be the final answer. After all, it is a correlation and not causation, for growth does not cause time and neither does it occur vice versa. I have yet to discover what this third variable is, and it is beginning to frustrate me a little.

Sometimes I wonder if I might someday become like them, so easily amused by a difference in size and stature in spite of very well-knowing that it is inevitable. Will I laugh heartily while commenting on how quickly the greater days have come and gone? Or will I let the reign of nostalgia terrorize me at the sight of a grown infant, or my own sagging skin? Will the wrinkles be a testament of joy to having lived the life, or will I hold back and allow the recesses of a regretful past permeate my memory?

A pile of disorganized thoughts in my mind, that's what this is.