Exhibitionist

Sometimes I blog and update my status because I want sympathy and comments. I want people to tell me that they care when they read my emo posts or statuses. It’s stupid and highly narcissistic, but yeah, sometimes I just need to know.

In-Style

I remember once lamenting that I do not have a particularly poetic style when I write, this of course in comparison to other writers who somehow manage to blog poetically.

A friend responded telling me that I write plainly and that itself is an art. I don’t embellish my posts or writing in general because I usually can’t be bothered and it isn’t really in my nature to do so (not embellishing my speech whether with verbosity or niceties).

Sometimes though, it would be nice to be able to write a line that sounds vaguely poetic.

On an unrelated note, I really do wish that the teenagers above me who are attempting their version of rockband without the good singer, drummer, bassist and guitarist programmed into the system would stop. After a while, people need to be told that they may have a gifting elsewhere, for others’ benefit and for their own. I don’t know if I’m hearing a lot of feedback from their sound system or if it’s just their natural talent to produce sounds that sound like feedback.

Unsettled

There has been and continues to be much suffering in the world. Someone I know has just found out that her entire village was washed away in the recent flooding. She can’t get in touch with her family because all communication is down.

Sometimes I look at my life and wonder if it’s wrong for me to worry about my 7 essays. Sometimes I berate myself for living the lifestyle that I live. Sometimes I wonder if it’s just wrong. People have told me that I have been blessed and I should enjoy it rather than being ‘ungrateful’ and disowning it. But something still doesn’t sit right somewhere deep down inside.

Correspondence

Today, I just skimmed through some old emails ranging from November 2006 to March 2007. Some made me smile to see how far we’ve come and others were accompanied with a sense of disbelief and a brief flash of nostalgia. I’m sure if  I looked through my posts from that period, I’d feel the same way.

How life moves on.

This time next year, I’ll be on my own (physically anyway).

Compromise

I don’t know the biblical basis for compromise but everyone tells me that in our relationships and we disagree, we should come to a compromise if possible. But what happens when both are at extreme opposite ends? What happens when one has to give up a dream in order for the other to have theirs? Can no compromise be reached?

National Day Reflections

I’m sitting here and listening to National Day songs with the Primary School kids across the fence singing along, and not without a hint of nostalgia. The kids are now singing, “This is my country, this is my flag.”

I’m not a Singaporean by nationality. I’m British and a Singapore PR. Yet, because I’ve lived here all my life, I see myself as Singaporean. I always have. I’ve always sung the National Anthem and said the Pledge.

At the recent APRU Summer Programme held here in NUS, I felt this sense of nationalism more keenly than before.

“Reach out for the skies.” (They’re still singing though the music’s been turned off).

People asked me if I was Singaporean and I replied with “technically no, but I’m a Singaporean at heart.”

I was asked about what I thought about the PAP and I honestly said that I think that they’ve done a pretty amazing job considering the brief timeline that is Singapore’s history. Admittedly, civil liberties are not as recognised as many other developed nations. Still, as I explained Singapore’s history to a friend, I realised how much Singapore had gone through in the short 60 years since the end of WWII. I dislike it when people decry the work of Singaporean Leaders simply because we lack civil liberties. One does have to take a balanced view rather than making broad and sweeping generalisations.  On the issue of History, many Singaporeans are bored by what they see as state crafted history. Thankfully, I’ve had good teachers who taught me more about Singaporean History than is usually taught in the textbooks, whether for my EE or in university.

“Semua kita berseru” (rather apt when you’re hearing a group of children singing it in unison).

Some may argue that National Day is just propaganda. At its worst, it is brainwashing yet highly effective propaganda, just looking at the crowds at the National Day Parade will tell you that.  The organisers of the National Day Parade and the practises of National Day are masters at working emotions and pride. At the same time, I do think that Singaporeans are proud of their country. They may be apathetic, but I’ve seen Singaporeans defend their country when others scoff it (usually verbally).

Excuse this stream of consciousness post, but I’m just writing as it comes to me.

To me, this is home and there’s no place I’d rather be.

4 Weeks Left

4 weeks left to reading week. I can’t wait for reading week to begin. I just want this semester to be over (more on why so in a blog post after this semester ends).

5 essays due, 2 Saturdays of MIDCs, 2 full weeks of coaching, next Sunday’s selections.

The craziness begins. Sigh.

Walking in your shoes

“Take off your own shoes”, they said.
“You’ll never understand if you don’t.”

But I don’t like your shoes,
they give me blisters and pinch my toes.
I can’t run around freely with them on.

“I know, I get blisters too”, you tell me.
Then why did you buy them?
Why hurt your feet?

“I don’t know. I guess that they looked good.
Besides, everyone else told me to buy them.”

So why must I wear them?
They hurt my feet and I didn’t buy them.

Then voices replied,
“It’s about being a good friend.”

Shouldn’t Be Me II

I feel like crap. I’ve screwed up.

I need to stop relying on myself to make you happy.

Clash of Interests

Well, this REALLY sucks.

I should watch Chariots of Fire again, maybe I’ll be inspired.