Half-thoughts form in my mind all the time; ideas for posts, the girl I met during that tutorial, how it’s been nearly a year since I left Jurong Camp for good, etc.
I’ve been busy recently with Sem 2 stuff, and I’ve been frowning at my belly as I skip gym visits in the day and runs at night. This CNY was the most disinterested I’ve been for any CNY.
Doctor visits have been cut down from fortnightly ones to monthly ones.
Sometimes when I wear my shirt in my stuffy, short, little room, I wonder how close I am to taking my fingers off in the fan above. I lay at night, listening to the occasional hum of the mini fridge and wondering if this fan would fall.
Sometimes I wonder if it’s normal to think this much about everything, and still come out unclear about what’s going on.
I’m drowning, white-knuckled and dizzy with all the things I haven’t done yelling at me and the resultant noise echoing around the room.
Everyone’s telling me that I can do it for Stage and yet I’m sweaty-palmed and slipping up on too many duties, duties that I’ve not passed to others because I’m scared that any miscommunication may be traced back to me.
I’m meeting many people: ARY quips that I should have a good chance seeing how I always hang with an adorable bunch of J3s, which begins another night of wondering if my standards are too high.
Sometimes I wonder if it’s perfectly normal to be all of that. Sometimes I wonder if I’m perhaps abnormal in so many ways.
I think about the stranger a lot and I wonder if I even have the right to be upset for so long.
I see Marie around at times, and I marvel at how far she’s gotten these 3 years since J2, becoming fit as all hell and hanging with the “gym bros” (people whom I look on with disdain borne out of fear)
I see Keng Heng, continuing his daring sense of fashion and launching his hand drawn sticker collection (I bought 4 but never stuck them on anything)
I see Mike recovering from his breakup and “finally being in a good enough mood to leave his house” (refused to tell me at first, fearing it would make me “sad” … hah. classic Mike.)
I see various friends getting attached all this while, some of which I make snide, mental remarks on and immediately chide myself for thinking that. Who am I to judge?
I compare myself to these
people I love and I see their self-respect and confidence
and I don’t see
myself
getting better
at all.
Perhaps you can stop reading, I don’t think anything I’m going to write about will change for a long time.
Hell, it’s been 4 years this far and I feel like I’ve been on an eternal treadmill.
But thanks for reading this blog so far.
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