Thoughts on a Monday Night

Thoughts on a Monday Night

Just spent my night watching Bridget Jones. Because I’m too tired to do work.

And it’s funny because watching chick flicks like these and listening to “all by myself” made me feel like writing something like “oh how my heart clenches, aching for love, the warmth of it, smooth, like steamed milk” when I realise I am not actually aching for love like I really don’t feel it.

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Some thoughts and Anxiety

Some thoughts and Anxiety

Ok, I need to calm down. Take a deep breath.

The thing is, I get unravelled really easily. Emotionally unravelled. So I really need to calm down.

Forgive my fragmented thoughts, I am still in a bit of a frenzied state.

Let me start from the beginning.

I realised I have been getting emotionally frenzied every time I bump into people I know in my halls. Not like people staying there- those I am completely used to, I enjoy it even, to see them and spend time with them. I mean my classmates who don’t stay in the hall and somehow turn up in my hall.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have hard feelings towards these people, I consider them friends, even. It’s just- I’m intensely and ironically private. I use social media and post my thoughts (I guess not private with my thoughts) but I am so painfully private in my life. I love walking around alone, or with just one or two friends. I love being…alone. Being in my own world, where no one knows me where it’s just me…and the outside world.

So when people I know turn up in my halls, I get this disruption to my “privacy”. It’s like I can separate the outside world (the “day” life) and my own private life. I get edgy and frenzied and anxious. I guess said classmate saw my laundry. A person’s most private possessions are one’s clothes. So it was really such a “jolt” and my mental state right now is extremely bad today. I just want to hide under covers in my room behind locked doors- lock, lock, lock. The further the better. I am so keen on having my own zone, it’s damaging to my psyche when this zone gets an “interference”.

I guess not much has changed since primary school. I would always get extremely homesick every time I go with the school; I think because it involves me staying somewhere foreign, and around people I know, this privacy that I crave is no longer present. I am super, super into family (because they have been there before anyone would have the capacity to develop barriers at all) which is a good thing I guess because my mom’s a very family person too and she likes that. But this also means that have very distinct divisions emotionally when I’m going about in my normal external life and when I’m at home (home being with myself or with people in the “family” category). Not that I can’t socialise of course; I just get jumpy when I already settle into this “home” zone then reality comes into view.

An update: I’m a bit better now because I am now lying in bed and I breathed in lovely warm laundry. Reminds me of the “babies smell like warm milk” expression in Perfume.

What about you? Do you get jumpy and stuff? I really want to read some replies, because I feel like a total weirdo right now.

You (don’t) sound Singaporean!

You (don’t) sound Singaporean!

(It’s 2am and I’m terribly tired, but I thought I should write down my thoughts before they slip from my mind. Pardon me if this post ends up unfinished at this point, it will be finished at some point.)

Now before I began, a little update. I’ve just started school at UCL for about 3 weeks, and I am having quite a good time so far. Law’s tough, but it’s interesting and honestly I really enjoy having to do all the readings we have to do, though it makes me incredibly tired at the end of the day and I end up not as efficient as I’d have hoped to be. The social aspect is tough, but it’s getting a bit easier and I have more friends now, both Singaporean and the ang-mohs. (I’ll talk more about my experiences in my London blog.)

I decided to write this post after a little incident that occurred while I was waiting for my debate to start in the holding room. Bianca and I met two people—an American and  a Hong-Konger whose parents are Malaysians—and we started talking about the Singaporean accent. I can’t remember how it started, or whether I was responding to a comment, but I recall saying, “My accent doesn’t sound that Singaporean, actually”. And this brought on a tiny (civilised) disagreement on how “Singaporean” I sound, with the Hong-Konger claiming “What, you sound really Singaporean”, and me being slightly miffed and retorting “my friends say I don’t sound that Singaporean” and him insisting that I was, in essence, the epitome of the Singaporean accent. In the midst of my irritation and annoyance at having my accent commented upon, I went to a friend of mine and demanded, “Do I sound very Singaporean to you?”.

His response: Why does it matter and what is so bad about that?

What is so bad about that? This question struck me in the core. Honestly, was sounding like a Singaporean, my nationality, something to be ashamed of? I do revel in conversing with my Singaporean friends, I feel extremely at ease (more relaxed than usual, even) when I can throw around my lah-s and meh-s, and remove conjunctions and verbs and essentially rojak the English language with lots of dialects. Why did I, then, become so defensive when someone calls my accent out as something that is an archetype of my nationality?

(In fact I am too tired to continue writing so why don’t you throw out suggestions and I will feature you in this piece?)

 

Thoughts at 2am

Thoughts at 2am

Getting pretty late, I really should sleep but I’m feeling very happy, floaty and light, hopeful, optimistic. This week has been so good, so exciting. Went to Odette’s house yesterday, God I will miss her so much when I go to the UK. Such a brilliant girl, kind and clever; I can talk about both trash and more meaningful stuff, concepts, ideas with her. Then I got Lady Gaga concert tickets which I’m going with Eugenia, so glad she’s going to the UK too. I really doubt I’ll be homesick there; I always tell people it’s pretty ok for me because one of my closest friends is coming along with me! Just got home after meeting with Sangwoo, his optimism really rubs off on me. Yet another lovely person, it’s amazing how well we can connect and how easy it is to understand each other. Must be the Aries-Gemini connection, I reckon. Really eased any worries I had recorded in my previous “untitled” post, so grateful for his companionship, insights and honesty. 

Brilliant week. Really hope the next would be just as great. My heart is literally bubbling with contentment and warmth. I really am incredibly grateful for the friends I have. 

Untitled

Untitled

Sometimes I wonder whether I should delete this blog. Start anew. Leave the past behind. But this blog holds so much sentiment and so many memories that it seems wasteful to not continue this little project. I think, for now I’ll keep it. Maybe when I start uni and things are a little different then I would continue on a new blog.

I know I should probably be sleeping, but a lot has been on my mind recently—angst, confusion and oddly, serenity. Writing is cleansing, so here is another “untitled” post (I’m not too good at post titles as you can see). I think I’ll leave most of my posts  “untitled” from now on, or with a generic title such as “thoughts on a wednesday evening”. Most of my posts are pretty generic anyway, mostly thoughts/feelings without a central theme/message so doing so would be pretty apt. Anyway, this particular post would be quite diary-style, rather jumbled with just thoughts all over the place (I need to get them in order but it’s difficult to arrange them internally, so I’m gonna brain-dump here).

So much has happened in the past week or so. Life’s (finally) looking a bit more exciting, with an orientation camp for my uni’s kids over the weekend. In retrospect I’m pretty glad for the camp actually; I’ve gone too long without such “mass” human interaction and have (over the months) started to become more and more “introverted”. Honestly, I thought that I had really become an introvert, though Odette would probably seek to differ and many of my other friends would laugh at this statement. The whole thing is quite complicated; for the past months, whenever I go out with a bunch of people I know but don’t really know, I just feel like burrowing within myself and become super conscious of how I’m not getting the humor, fitting in basically. And I don’t think I cannot actually fit in, but it’s just there’s a certain resistance to interacting with such a large group of people simultaneously and not going into deep feelings and thoughts and stuff. And I would feel increasingly lost in events filled with strangers and just want to go home. I think it’s social anxiety of a specific kind; one that is engendered whenever I have to handle interactions that involves reveling in the atmosphere/laughter. I even cried about it with Matt; it just seemed so tough, and I get hurt too easily sometimes. But he’s right. Just different ways of socialising, I suppose. No wonder I’m only a borderline extrovert: I love to talk to people but having to talk to more than 1-2 people/make ONLY small-talk drains me particularly fast.

Back to my main point. I’m kinda grateful for the camp as I do miss making interactions on the most basic level, that is, to just start knowing people, initiating conversations etc. It wasn’t easy at first, however. I think a lot of us were kind of intimidated at first (well, me at least, for I get intimidated pretty easily) due to people talking about drinking and partying and admitting to heavy drinking and partying. But first impressions count for little, I suppose. Whilst the night activity was kind of strange and uncomfortable, I’m kind of glad it turned out the way it did as it got us (in the OG) talking and find things in common (nothing bonds people more than talking about other people (oops)) and I’d like to think we became a lot more at ease with each other after that and everyone seemed less scary after that. Though I feel like I’m pretty good at getting people to dislike me (I’m so noisy sometimes and too passionate/obsessed about things I’m passionate about) which sucks but I’m really too tired to care anymore, or so I think.  I guess if at the end of the day I can find a few friends whom I really get along with, it’s good enough for me. Moving on…

I’m kinda in a state of confusion right now such that I really don’t know what I want/think. I guess it’s just the added pressure of the whole university-is-where-you’ll-find-someone and one of my closest friends actually finding someone. I can be so emotionally needy sometimes, God, and think, hey, having a boyfriend would be pretty cool. But I don’t want one. I think intimacy is kinda icky sometimes. My friends say that it’s because I have never experienced it, but I don’t know, I feel my mind hardening into an increasingly rational one every day, and it certainly does not help convince me love does exist. I guess it’s really part of identity formation, answering the question: Could I love? I don’t know, could I, COULD I? (FML, first the existential crisis, now this). Sometimes I meet someone really good in many ways but after a while a horrible feeling comes over me like hey, I can’t love love this person. I really don’t know how to describe it. Do you get that? Leave a comment below. Lust, parental love yes I understand but what about love, between two complete strangers? I don’t know. I’ll update this blog if I actually find love but I think that will be quite some time away. And then I look into the mirror and at pictures and analyse my bro-ish/brash/impulsive/loud/driven attitude and think, who can love this? I’m not that girl, that meek-pretty-sweet-lovely-slender-tender girl. I mean, I try to be sometimes but I’d say I haven’t had much success. I guess the only good thing is that I’m kind and friendly and helpful (though over-compensating sometimes, I need to keep my problem-solving attitude under control) so yea that makes me a good, but somewhat irritating friend. Sometimes people ask me why I don’t date and I love to tell them I’m not the type, except (secretly) I mean I’m not the type, girlfriend-material type. And it really sucks that I’m writing this because being an insecure creature is a highly unattractive trait. But screw this it’s my blog I can write whatever I want.

But I digress. Some days I am just too dopily/floppily/rabbity happy to care about boyfriends and what is it- lurrr-vve. Like I feel like a free spirit and all, that I can do whatever I want, go wherever I want on my own. Like I don’t really need anyone. Really at odds with my insecurities over love and whatsit. I guess it’s because I’m not THAT love-hungry but am driven by hormones (? ??? ?????????). Sorry for describing us rational beings as primal creatures, clearly I’m a very very bio student (Mrs Lee would be so proud of me, I would say).

Anyway, all I know is that I’m not crushing on anyone anytime soon. Been there, done that (way too many times). It’s unhealthy to always seek out love/people and never ever being a recipient of that. Very, very unhealthy. So bloody tired of that. So whatever, can’t be bothered. I’m just gonna do my own thing and see how everything turns out. Not gonna hold firm ideas about anything or make assumptions and be active about it all. I’m just gonna sit here.

I apologise for the jumbled-ness of the post. Just gotta get the thoughts out and writing helps me to think. I may not be a good writer but I still love to write because it allows you to hunt within yourself emotions and thoughts that are too difficult to verbalize. And I really shouldn’t use the “z”s and words like “learned”, gotta keep the spelling more brit.

 

 

My Memory Project: Part 1

My Memory Project: Part 1

I recall:

Lunchtimes spent with Sandra and Eugenia in Room 9 or 13. Doing homework, studying, ranting. Complaining about the J1s then. Talking about you-know-who.

Always trying to find people to share the papadums with because they come in packets of two. Chicken tenders from the Malay store, which we got upset when they stopped selling. Potatoes with cheese. Baked rice from the western store. Calling straight red tea “curved red tea” or “gay red tea”. Milo ice-creams. Eating from the chicken rice store because nobody buys from there so there isn’t a queue. Iced milo. We don’t really like eating in the canteen.

Odette walking to the TG table. Throws her green (new balance?) bag on the table, which I recall she got as her 17th birthday present. Generally the TG don’t really talk to each other in the morning but how would I know, I’m always late anyway. Plus I was quite absent the last few months of school because I had, umm, other concerns ( I now see another possibility of my memory loss: the fact that a lot of my school life was about you-know-who and I am not the kind to wallow in rejection, so getting over him effectively wiped away all my memories of him i.e memories of school.)

Alright, that’s enough for today. It’s getting a little bit hard, the blankness is setting in again.