Casa De Shao

Category: General

  • Of the Precious

    Of the Precious

    Truth be told, I didn’t actually finish the last post because I was too busy preparing to book in the last week. I have an hour and a half left now, though.

    Each day is an exercise in being strong about all the trainings and punishments till dinner, while each week is an exercise in living till the next weekend. And as each day passes by, I amass more and more “I’ll do”s, such as “I’ll go out alone on Saturday night”, “I’ll find out the name of that vintagey-classical design” or “I’ll finish that card”. Not too different from the schooldays we used to have.

    Outta time!

  • Aut Inveniam Viam Aut Faciam

    Aut Inveniam Viam Aut Faciam

    I’m currently having (In? On? Through? Silly prepositions.) my second book-out, while most of my friends are having their second-last.

    Where do I begin? I’m alive, of course.

    I stubbed my right index finger a couple of days ago. It swelled slightly and hurts when I bend the first joint. I wag the finger as a badge of courage, hard work and (If only the cause were as nobel as it looks; I stubbed it in a game of Captain’s Ball)

    Life right now is very different from the one before. Much more than simply the obvious change in my weekdays; coming back home is a strange experience in the way that my current life as a soldier-to-be has diverged from the life I used to have. Both lives seem to be playing themselves out at the same time, and there’s a sense of detachment that forms from the surreality of returning to an unfamiliar place.

    They like to say that tough times don’t last, but tragically, neither do the good ones. The greatest irony (I think I’m using the term wrongly here) is that I dread returning home. Returning home is simply (to put it lightly and totally ) a weekly revisitation of how I used to live, except… it’s different. Everything feels the same, but it feels like I’ve left a part of my soul in the past, the one that’s comfortable with everything

  • SCARY ADULTHOOD OBJECTOR

    Image

    —

    My heart seems to be pounding frantically, attempting to bounce through my chest and out onto the keyboard. My head’s throbbing and my brain is trying to do the same, whilst attempting to type every single character out.

    An empty cup, reeking slightly of alcohol, sits beside me, reminding me of a resolution un-acknowledged. I’m not going to have time for any drinking soon, so pardon my lack of sticking to things.

    I can feel my face all flushed with intoxication, but I must finish this post before I crash for the night.

    And when I do, tomorrow will arrive, and I’ll have so little time left. Left to walk upon the lands of the earth until my soles hurt and blister. Left to sit and fret for all that matters and all that don’t. Left to breathe free, in the very air that I love to breathe.

    As for the A’s, my results weren’t stellar at all. A great embarassment that only I can feel lingers about. Yes, I know that it doesn’t really matter. Yes, I know that there are better things in life and that I shouldn’t be mulling on something that’s been long over.

    But for a person as aimless as I, lingering in this limbo that is between the end of 12 years of formal education and the start of a gruelling 2, the shame grasps and leaves my heart bleeding. The shame of not having straight A’s while all your friends do. The shame of being someone who didn’t work hard enough, and wasn’t part of the statistics presented on-stage.

    And the deep, deep anger and injustice you feel as all the people who’ve bitched the loudest about failing, and worry about getting poor results, carry on to achieve straight A’s, the kind which I don’t think I’ll ever get to experience.

    And even though I’m leaving soon, I see that not I’m gonna get a farewell that everyone else seems to get. Maybe I don’t even deserve one at all.

    Such bitter words.

    My breath reeks of that drink, the one that I always return to for some kind of solace even though it tastes terrible and should have never existed.

    1 day left, and 19 days after.

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  • Time enough at last

    Sooooo… that was prom.

    It just… ended. Like that. Poof, two years of college life gone, two of the greatest years that have ever graced our short lives. Ended. I doubt I’ll ever feel the blow that will come, but I feel a tingly sense of loss.

    There were so many lasts zooming by this year: last lecture, last tutorial, last day of lessons, last day of A’s and if you will, the last day of 12 years of guided education. My class isn’t a very bonded one, though I’m glad that they’re there.

    Today was some sort of recap, where we got to say our final goodbyes, to mock the event together, to say “Hey! Take photo NOW” and to beam the widest smiles at each other and generally look like adults and yet act like students. Seemed too short though.

    So what next? What happens next? It’s uncertain of course, and they always say that you should carve a future for yourself.

    Reminds me of that comic about this girl who pressed a button saying “adulthood” and complained that it does nothing because she didn’t feel like she knew a lot of things. Swiftly, she was told that no one ever does know a lot of things, and that’s adulthood I guess.

    But it was a good night. Absolutely!

    image

  • Discipline, part deux

    Click to access an interactive chart, you silly voyeur.

    This is another attempt to log my mass. It is hovering at about 88kg!

    Which means that I’m nearly not overweight which is awesome. Follow me on my journey as I attempt to not enter the barracks 10 weeks early!!

  • But couldn’t good, be good enough?

    It’s an interesting experience to write up a post on my iPod’s smashed screen; it’s almost akin to an interactive stained-glass window that looks as good as it is functionally helpful. Not at all. I could just write existential words such as “why” and take pictures of the result. It might get reblogged on Tumblr a lot. I almost took a screenshot of my broken screen.

    I’ve been a free-thinker for a few months already. At least I think so. No point in following some religion which you don’t know nothing about, right? I still believe that there’s a Big Man Upstairs.

    I don’t like how things and people change. Fun’s not fun any more. But it’s the finals year so whatever.

    I’m partially afraid that I may have been an accident/adoption/accidental adoption… My parents don’t ever tell me how they’ve met and thus I’ve never learnt to love. That was a joke, I’ve said too much but I don’t think it’s true.

    I’m such a yes man, because if I start saying ‘no’, people get mad which I really don’t like.

    This screen is hard to read from.

    I wish I could document someone’s life a la The Office. Sounds like loads of fun.

    I think I have an idea on how to make the class montage.

    I am imperially screwed for blocks. I don’t think I’ll be able to read half of anything by next week.

    I wish I was good at something, just something. I have friends that are good at things. Art. Music. Appearances. I want to be proud of myself for once, and I want to be able to express myself better because I’m not good like that.

    I want to have a reason, a good one, to stay.

  • Social imperfections.

    It’s like 3am and I can’t freaking sleep so here I am.

    I’ve been unable to sleep well ever since a week ago when I came to the conclusion that I required social connections to be happy. In fact, I’ve stopped being unhappy and stopped caring, but I’ve stopped being happy and able to sleep early as well. Yes, I don’t understand myself either.

    I was so huge when I was younger. I want to slap my young self so bad.

    To my main point.

    So two days ago, I attended my primary school class reunion. We had only 2 classes of GEP students so it was easy to socialize and stuff, everyone knew one another and well, life was pretty great. There’s no one I dislike from this group of friends I have and I guess it’s pretty hard to come by.

    But man, man, after hearing the stories they had, those about nightmarish breakups, doing really (people getting drunk-ass, knocking up with others, general things that make you go “why doesn’t anything happen in MY school?) wild things, and even relationships that I was practically oblivious to… It kind of shatters that one ‘perfect’ image you’ve had; the one where all of these people used to be KIDS who squealed upon hearing swears. All the happy innocent memories of ‘catching’, childish escapades and classes replaced with tears, vice and broken hearts.

    It’s even stupider (More stupid? Dumber? Stupid to a greater extent?) that I didn’t know any of that. I mean, we’re talking about me going “WHAT?!” every minute, things that only happen in dramas and stuff (I’m usually the one to make others go “WHAT?!” once a day so it’s extra weird) I used to think that I hung out with these people a lot, and clearly I’ve been leaving a tad early every time we had a reunion. I’ve really, really missed out catching up with my friends. That is a terrible pity.

    Also, it is glaringly obvious that I did not have a social life then. It’s a terrible thing to suddenly realise that you’re actually an innocent INTROVERT after 7.5 years of bloody delusion.

    For Pete’s sake, I only started caring about my own appearance last year. Damnit.

    I left the reunion at nearly midnight, with more questions about myself than I’d have liked.

    But the great thing about this is that this goes to show that the current friends I have are more perfect than I think, that they’re all just relatable, pure and perfectly fantastic people whom I know very well indeed and whom I deserve to think of in the best way possible. That’s… a pretty, pretty nice thought to have.

    Thanks for reading this. You’re a great person.

  • I know I won’t be leaving here with you

    So that was inSYNC. I don’t have the right to say or judge anything about this event given that my duties entailed entering the school after noon and taking photos and delivering Koi (which is overrated! I mean the Koi, not the delivery of Koi. Also, 9 cups are pretty heavy)

    It’s like a spin-off of See², much like how a documentary of my life would be a spin-off of a documentary of yours. It’s interesting, but you probably don’t think that my life is as important as yours.

    The proposals seem way more… To put it nicely, basic, but three days just isn’t enough for a bunch of kids without experience to suddenly learn how to think critically, in the way that plugs up loopholes and incites awe. So they had loopholes and didn’t impress me.

    I got to re-meet people whom I’ve met two years ago, one year ago… It’s really really wonderful to have all these juniors come up, extend their arms and yell my name out in glee (rare that anyone uses this word). Everyone likes me! Yay! It feels pretty good.

    They’re all great people, but inSync and See²… These things are over for an indefinite period of time. That’s another story for another day.

    —

    Recently, I’ve been hooked up on the idea on what makes me happy. Material comforts aren’t enough any more.

    What makes me glad are special moments.

    The moments when I am able to connect to people on a level way higher than simply understanding and communicating; when the people I am working, playing or just hanging out with are able to connect, sympathise, laugh, mope and all of that with me with near-perfect synchronicity. I like being part of something and being a vital cog in an ever-moving machine of all that good stuff.

    Maybe I am too socially pessimistic.

    I’m just really glad when people want me around. Doesn’t take much else to cheer me up. But it doesn’t take me much to become unhappy either.

    And this is why I think I’m too clingy to people nowadays. The lack of any form of social contact means that I lack such a response. I get lonely often. I value friendships a ton.

    —

    If it takes more for me to be happy now, does it mean that I’ve become more mature or childish?

    I guess that’s the next big question for me.

  • Of something we’ve all got and everything else.

    When I started this year off, I used to have a list of resolutions, some silly resolutions that don’t really contribute to anything.

    Resolutions like, don’t let things get to you, go on runs every day, seize the day everyday.

    Things get to me. I didn’t manage to go running every day. Some days are still forgettable.

    But I’ve realised, that (it might be foolish to quote sitcoms but heck it) to do things for yourself is bad, and that helping others is good. There is no easier way to be proud and happy of yourself. (Community is great.)

    With a flower, with the mustering of courage, with a few words; I get a slowly-formed smile, a word of thanks. Everything bad, wrong and in-between blurs out of focus. Muster the courage to get what you want, rather than waiting and hoping.

    Seize it, seize every day, every chance that you can get. Chances are, you’ll come out smiling.

    Thank you, roses. Thank you, stage curtains, for giving me a job to do. Thank you, name withheld, for giving that tiny push. Thank you, Dancenight, for being an event to remember. (Maybe it wasn’t.)

    I don’t care if this happiness, this optimism, is fleeting or not.

    Life is great again.

    that seems like a load of rambling