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Tuesday, March 31, 2015 @ 10:03 pm
Don't people always say that it's perfectly okay to make mistakes? They give you an opportunity to learn what and where had gone wrong, and make things better from there.What if I know I made a mistake, and genuinely want to take a chance to correct it? But you're not even giving me a chance. All you do is run away. Run far far away. I still can't believe love can die just like that. Something somewhere must have gone wrong. But what can I do? I made a mistake, and never fought hard enough to win the losing battle. I have only myself to blame. Monday, March 30, 2015 @ 6:36 pm
Today I witnessed something that I can never forget. Never in my life.So after my driving lesson I rushed to Paya Lebar MRT, wanting to get home as soon as possible. Driving, as usual, drained my energy so much that I desperately needed rest. Dragged my drained soul towards the cabin. While walking, I suddenly heard a bellow. I frantically turned around and tried to look for the source of the unknown sound, but my eyes couldn't find their way to it. I quickened my footsteps and stopped in front of the cabin, only to witness a Malay male clutching onto his neck and collapsing face-flat onto the ground. Tremors shook his entire body and left him flopping on the ground like a fish on land, destined to die. The convulsions took his consciousness away, and he seemed to be slipping into and out of it. A packet of cigarettes flew from his open bag and the bag was left lonesome and disregarded at a corner near the lift. The shaking got more violent by the second. I stood on the spot. Thoughts ran across my mind, images flashed. Scared shitless. What do I do now? My feet took me a few steps forward; I was so close to leaping towards the commotion and being part of a heroic, life-saving act. Was his temporomandibular joint still intact when he fell on his jaw? What type of fit was he suffering from? Should I get him to lay down on his sides so that his tongue can fall out of the way of his teeth naturally? The next moment something held me back, and my body jerked backwards. What am I thinking about? I know nothing that can help him. What am I gonna do there? Stand and watch? Cause that's literally what you do mostly when someone has fits. The next moment I saw what I couldn't believe had happened. Instead of ordinary white foam oozing out of the victim's mouth, pink stuff was flowing. What on earth? I had to look again to confirm that what I saw was real. Then I looked at the people around me. This aunty who stood near me looked at me, and with one look I knew she could tell that I was hesitant. I wondered if she also knew that I really wanted to do something about it, but didn't know how to. I tried to seek reassurance in her soft gaze at me, but it didn't help. The others around were either pretty much preoccupied with ignoring the whole scene, or were doing just what I was doing -- standing facing the commotion, not knowing how to react. Later when I assumed that the Malay lady in pink tudung and Indian man knew what to do, I boarded the train, taking one last glimpse at the scene. The lady was instructing people to get the victim to lie on his side, while the Indian man was trying to wrestle the victim to prevent the victim from hurting himself. The commuters on the train were also peering out of the cabin door, trying to comprehend what was happening. This was the shortest ride home that I ever took from Paya Lebar. Throughout the ride I was google-ing "how to help someone with fits" and reading away. Now I know. If only I knew earlier. And that same aunty in her electric blue cheongsam looked as bogged down in her own thoughts as I did. I wondered if we were thinking about the same thing. It sucks being a medical student, yet not being able to help out in times of need such as this. While walking home, I was thinking of the legal obligation to help out in such times of crisis when I finally become a certified doctor, like what Francis had told us. I was half-excited to be a life-saver, yet half-thankful that I could still get away this time because I didn't do anything to help. I mean, nobody would know that I'm a medical student... I don't want to feel the latter ever again. Sucks big-time. I really wish we could be taught such life-saving skills earlier. I don't think I wanna feel this feeling of regret anymore. Trust me. Nothing can get shittier than this feeling. This sense of loss of life has never come so close so acutely. No matter how shitty things can become, fact remains that this is still one of the many reasons why I wanted to do medicine in the first place. :) Monday, March 23, 2015 @ 7:46 pm
I initially started off intending to come up with or search for a quote that adequately expressions my emotions and thoughts at this moment, but none of them made me feel comfortable enough to go ahead and match them up with this post.I left home. On the way to the train station, a sudden gush of wind took me away with my thoughts. It was an unusually quiet day. The people who got into my path daily whom I used to dart away from seemed to have wanted to let me off today. I felt alone, but somehow I didn't enjoy the solitude like I've always used to. The wind kept me company until I reached the train station - aha. This place could never go wrong. Then I proceeded to head towards the least crowded cabin near the train head and waited for the train. I had a good observation of silence throughout the entire ride to school. It was insanely silent; there had to be one or two teenage punksters blasting the newest versions of pop or metal, sharing their profound love for music with the commuters and flagrantly insulting the peace that they never appreciated. There was no misdemeanor of such sorts today. Everyone was stuck on their little gadgets, not even the newspapers. It was as though the long-standing debate about newspapers being phased out and replaced had finally resolved itself. Deft fingers scrolling through the news feeds on familiar applications, the same images of a particular familiar persona took the news by storm, the same posts shared on social media over and over again. Every individual was hooked - onto the news and onto the sense of detachment they all are trying to overcome, How could I have missed it while I was asleep? Just before a lecture, we had all expected a lecturer to come in and tell us the news. We stood up and in the uncomfortable presence of a few camcorders began to observe one minute of silence. The silence was deafening, apart from flustered flipping of pages coming from the front of the lecture theatre. A particular student conveniently decided to ignore the silent pleas of the professor and all the other students, and went on to do his own stuff. The flipping gradually got louder and more frequent. But nobody stopped him; everyone wanted to take their moment of silence wholeheartedly - for the first time ever. White words embalmed onto a black backdrop in remembrance and memory of our great founding father - mournful, solemn and dignified - were in stark contrast with the beeping sounds made by the ticketing machine at the MRT station. The words could so easily be overlooked by any commuter if they subconsciously revelled in their own thoughts and emotions. At the corner of my eye, I glanced at the screen habitually, only to discover that the gloomy, sorrowful backdrop had replaced the usual romantic, noisy, loud, at times even irritating movie advertisements that beckoned everybody's attention. No wonder it felt quiet even there. At the newspaper stand, I stood around for a long long time, looking for the familiar title "The Straits Times". I couldn't find it. Uncle waved his hand at me while I was on the phone saying, "今天的特别版". The images of this familiar sage in grayscale piled up before me. I was hesitant, but still bought a copy anyway. He seemed to have sensed how odd I felt, and reassured me once again that it was a special edition. I thought I had enough of the depressing mood today. I tried to lift my spirits and devoted my attention to observing the surroundings on the way home instead of scrolling away at my phone. I heard the familiar Mediacorp tune which always played after a show ended even before I got to take a peep through the mini-garden of plants into this particular house. After which, the same grayscale photographs appeared on screen with the words "悼念李光耀 1923 - 2015". I rushed home to watch many videos paying tribute to him. Early this morning before dawn returned again, I was roused from my sleep as usual with the loud wailing of my alarm. I got up, stumbled my way out of the room, only to find Mavis come right up to me before she left home for her exams. "LKY really died." "Huh serious?" I paused for a moment, shoved her aside figuratively and went ahead hurriedly to wash up. I obviously wasn't awake yet. While chucking greasy breakfast down my system, I scrolled through my Facebook live feed and received notifications from the Guardian that what I heard from Mavis was true. So it finally hit me. I frantically scrolled and scrolled away, dived past all the distracting statuses posted by friends and family who knew before I did, while I was asleep, dived right into the official statement released by the Prime Minister's Office. I hovered, I lingered. It all happened while I was asleep. The encounters I had today reminded me of the graveness of the Silent Mentor Appreciation Ceremony that happened last Friday. I couldn't believe I was feeling grief this real. I thought I had no reason to. Everyone knew it was merely a matter of time. After all, death is the only constant in life (the irony). When an individual leaves the world, the rest of the people will speak of the good in him, the intimate personal encounters they had together, the warm human touch that the communication brought. When an individual leaves the world, he is commemorated for the impact he had left on the people around him. When an individual leaves the world, he is celebrated for the many lives he had touched, the fond memories he had created, and the legacy - whether huge or small - he leaves behind. And this man, he's not just any other man. Mr. Lee Kuan Yew built a more than a city. He transformed the entire landscape of Singapore within a short span of 50 years. He built a nation with his own hands; its people and their lives too, built by him. He knew how to, and at that time, nobody else would have known how. Leave the past unhappiness for a moment and stop complaining about what we are not entitled to. Bury the dissatisfaction and disgruntles and instead be grateful for the much more that we have, way more than what we deserve. Courage, determination, perseverance, respect, efficiency, intelligence, all of which he embodies. An epitome of a leader he is, an absolute paragon of character. We are indebted to you. We can never thank you enough. Rest in peace Sir, for you will live on in every Singaporean's heart forever. Saturday, March 14, 2015 @ 6:25 pm
I always wonder if what I'm doing is right, in anything that I do.Sometimes I think I wonder too much. So you left me hanging here, not knowing whether to wait or to be ready to let go. I've been waiting, and I've been cooperative. You've shown me signs that you kind of wanna salvage something, but as usual you never had the courage to tell me. I've seen myself grow out of all sorts of childish things that I might have/could have done in the past. Intentionally not texting back, intentionally saying things to make you feel jealous, intent on getting your attention and intentionally doing all sorts of stuff to try to make things work. Then I wonder, what if I never did anything intentionally? Will anything bloom out of this? What if we never were desk mates? What if we never had a phone? What if the texting never started? Then I wonder, what was the basis of our relationship? It doesn't sound like anything fantastical or phenomenal or memorable or sturdy. That's when I realise that I'm beginning to have doubts. When I was blinded I pretty much couldn't see what I was supposed to see for a long long time. I don't know if you feel the same, but in essence I think we might have come to a common understanding, just that it's on different levels and I don't know the consequences of our understanding. Somehow things started to change. I wouldn't say for the better or for worse because I really can't decide. I started to care less. Literally and plainly. I never thought I was weak enough to do this (then I question again whether it's about weakness but that aside...). When you sounded so cold and harsh, I gradually started to shy away from you, but now it isn't on purpose. I felt that we didn't have much to talk about anyway because neither of us are receptive enough to pretend and hear things from each other like we used to. I didn't have anything else left to say, for the first time in three-odd years. Also, I grew out of the whole I'll-make-you-jealous-and-let's-see-what-comes-out-of-it thing. When you said certain stuff it made me think if you were trying to do what the old me might have done, and whether or not you were years behind me in terms of maturity. I really really hope not. But yeah, point is, I honestly couldn't be bothered anymore to see you jealous or make you feel that way, because I no longer see any point in doing so. I once thought if a girl does something like this, a guy should somehow feel honoured because she cares. But what the heck? Does that mean that I don't give a shit about this anymore? When I had all these thoughts I was afraid that I would be the one un-working things. I was afraid that things happened because it was my fault to begin with. I know I'm not a romantic. I know I'm passive, I don't do much stuff to make you feel special, but trust me - deep down inside the emotions and feelings are REAL and extremely intense. I literally burst with excitement when I'm with you. But... It appeared to me that you don't feel the same way anymore. You were no longer as sweet and romantic as before. I slowly began to see that I no longer received hand-written cards, personally-folded origami pieces, little tokens and gifts as a pledge of love, tiny gestures that make me feel you still care. You no longer woke up early and spent the entire day with me on a date, cared about being on time (I think it speaks a lot, like being perpetually late means you don't give a fuck), walked me home because you really wanted to do so and with no strings attached. I no longer felt like a priority, but rather a means to an end. Such stuff I've noticed for myself, yet never had the courage to say. Such stuff I've observed for so long, yet dared to scream out loud. It sucks being so sensitive and observant, because every action (or lack of action) sends a flying dart to my heart and leaves me crying tears of blood. I guess all we need to do (or rather all that's left to do) is to talk. I used to think that I was a really good listener. Right from the beginning since primary school, I've been the quiet one, silently attentive to everyone's woes and frustrations, and I only spoke up when I had the solution for them. It seems that I've been quiet for too long. Now I have so much to say, but honestly I know none of the words of advice from anyone can suffice. Because even I don't have the solutions to this. There are some things in life where we never get a definite answer. There are some things that we can never be certain of. Because the world doesn't just revolve around one single thing; every single entity on Earth demands attention in some form of another, and will play a part in shaping what some other thing can become. There are too many things that go on at the same time. Life is never as simple as experiments. That's why I hate experiments. Isolating some factor and keeping others constant is nothing but ideal, yet nowhere close to reality. And I don't think I like the idea of being an experimental subject. Tuesday, March 03, 2015 @ 12:37 am
Childish rant ahead. Be prepared to shut your eyes.The worst week of my life. Officially down. Tortuous studying for CA3 when my mind isn't even there with the books. How am I even supposed to think straight and concentrate? The first few days were so horrendous; I strayed away from the thoughts about acetyl-CoA carboxylase and HDLs too often and got lost in the tangled-up mess of our degraded relationship so much. I couldn't stop thinking about what went wrong and how it happened, whether there's anything I could do to turn things around, or whether I should even try in the first place. Too much time and tears were spent on calming myself down and on trying to face the fact that this could all well be over. I know I don't want it to end. But I don't know if you still feel the same. If it isn't love, it's very very close. Got on well when LawMed Dance was over. It was a pretty good way to give my mind a break and to vent all my frustrations. Made a few friends and the post-dance enthusiasm didn't seem to wanna die down. After LawMed Dance the sense of urgency to start studying hit me and so I did. Thankfully you did me the favour of not further evoking and inciting some unexplainable intense feeling of downright heartbreak and sadness. Literally felt well enough to study, although at times I still pick up my phone and stare blankly into it, waiting for the Whatsapp messages that seemed to have gotten lost mid-air along with the wind. I got better. I started thinking that I must adopt a positive attitude and sound happy so that you won't find me an emo annoying prick. So I saw myself taking it easy on the seen-but-not-replied texts. I kept waiting. Patiently. For the day I get my answer. Sunday came. It was a shitty panic attack day. I realised how crippled I was without your support, without your words of encouragement, without your help to get me by. I realised how emotionally reliant I was on you, and how easily my mood could get affected along with yours. You told me to calm down and work on. You called me and wished me all the best for my exams. That could easily have been the best thing that happened to me in the year so far. I thought, maybe things aren't as bad as I thought. Then today came. The questions I've been wanting so badly to ask but haven't came out of my mouth for sheer fear of disrupting my focus. I've been trying so hard to learn how to accept the worst possible answers. The answers that I already should have known or already did know deep down inside. The same questions, the same answers. So helpless and sick and tired of how this is going in cycles - me feeling insecure and bombarding you with questions and adding a disclaimer to tell you that I'm not stressing you out but in fact I am doing just that, you giving me the same answers saying that you need alone time, me trying to grapple with that sense of loss. Just how direction-less everything is going. In denial. Are we really through? Why can't you just tell me if I still stand a chance? Why can't you give me a chance to correct it while things aren't spiralling downwards too much yet? Why can't you hear me out? I knew just how much you meant to me for me to feel all these in such a short span of 2-3 weeks. You told me to just leave you alone. I wanted to. I did. For a day. I was angry. So many stupid and childish thoughts came to my mind: so now I'm annoying? Are you doing this just so you can yolo and have a second chance in romance instead of being stuck at your first which is so uncool? Have you learnt the disgusting side of me such that it turns you off so much? Are your new priorities really so high up there? Are you really caring about what I deserve or just pretending to be noble to shake me off? Are you gonna put me on hold as a last resort? Am I really that worthless in your eyes? Am I right for you? Are you right for me? You told me to learn how to be a bit more selfish. I swear I haven't been trying to act all nice in front of you. Freaking hell no. I don't even have the mental energy to think about myself now that you've bogged my mind so much. I don't have to pretend. I thought everything was fine. I've learnt to accept it as a sign of a relationship too comfortable. I never knew it could backfire in this manner. I did try, I told you some things wouldn't work out right from the start. But you don't seem to be able to practice enough self-control. I hate this whole thing because you can't give me enough answers to convince me that I should be alright. Two nights ago, I had sort of a nightmare that kept me on tenterhooks literally throughout the entire night while I was asleep/half-asleep. I was sitting on a park bench alone, with nothing much in the backdrop but grey skies and nice meadow. I was waiting for something... I felt something or someone close by, but I never mustered enough courage to turn around to check. I felt so naked, like I was being observed, scrutinised, my every moment and every breath. I waited and waited nervously. I woke up, still waiting. To my surprise. this was so reflective of my current state. What if I turned, looked back and saw that someone or something? Wouldn't things have been way different? But why. Why are you ignoring me. Why are you giving me the cold shoulder? Is avoiding me really the best solution you can think of? Just how annoying am I to you? Or have you already found someone to replace me? Maybe sometimes some things are better left unanswered. Just imagine all of these + studying for CA3. The turnout? I messed up the paper. DUH. I did study, but I couldn't recall. I panicked throughout the entire duration. I couldn't find my way to my head. This was easily the worst exam I ever took in my life. I can't be bothered whether I can pass or not. I just wanted to be alright. Back with my mind. Back with the presence of mind. Right now I don't even know how to talk to you. I don't even know how to face you. Why are you screwing up things that are all well and not messed up? How do we face the people around us? When people ask, what am I supposed to say when even I don't know? Can't blame y'all for being insensitive though. "So what did you do for CNY/Valentine's?" "Idk no plans yet?" "Maybe that's the whole point! You have a surprise waiting for you!!" *Ha-ha* Bullshit. "Oh, we're taking a break right now?" "Wow what break? A holiday? That's so sweet!" Fuck off really. I really wish people can stop asking if I'm fine. I'm not but I don't think you knowing about it can make me feel better. Let me just pretend to be this cheerful funny girl like I always have been. Let me just try to find myself. I don't know when things will get better, but someday they will. Someday I will be fine. It's just a matter of time. To the both of us - a blind eye, a deaf ear, but an unyielding heart. Hahaha happy 300th post anniversary. What's the point of anniversaries anyway if people don't celebrate them? |