Wednesday, August 29, 2012 10:48 PM
It's all in my mind.
I shall liken it to being on a mountain.
Imagine.
The miraculous sensation that grips you- the amazement, that you've finally reached that height.
Looking about you- all the sights. So beautiful. Trees and waterfalls in the distance, pretty flowers nearby.
The sun's warmth just right. The clouds scattered across the canvas of blue in whichever way pleases them.
And the wind. The wind, blowing so comfortably, as though you would fly.
Somewhere that you tell yourself that you could stay forever and not get bored.
Somewhere where you're free from all the material worries, all that incessant noise from day to day life.
Somewhere you feel happy in. More than happy- exhilarated.
You soak in the beauty of it all, stand there in amazement, walk about intrigued.
Your orientation may be all off now, but it doesn't seem to matter.
Then at some point, a rumbling beneath your feet.
Your first thought was that it's absurd. It must be your imagination.
The mountains shifting beneath your feet? All that solid rock that borne your weight as you made your way up- shaking?
You freeze up for a moment.
No... the other visible mountains aren't shaking. Animals aren't fleeing. Option earthquake down.
Option trembling feet- KIV that.
But wait. The ground isn't shaking at all.
You wait a few moments, then check the box beside option A Figment of My Imagination mentally.
The night approaches, and the clouds are painted. The skies dyed with gold, pink, purple...
The ground shakes again.
Violently.
It would be naive and silly to convince yourself that the rocks beneath you aren't moving.
You have to move. Yet to move, you need to find your bearings first, for you've forgotten where the starting point was, in the midst of all the beauty before you.
You don't understand. How that immovable mountain can... well, move.
No clue about what's going on, no clue where you're headed, but knowing that you can't stay.
Hesitant steps. Slight steps. But those legs need to move.
And suddenly you realise the ground isn't shaking anymore.
There isn't a ground to shake anymore.
Did you walk right off the cliff?
Did the rock beneath your feet crack open to swallow you up?
Just what happened? The recurrent question that plagues your mind as you feel yourself falling...
Falling. You feel your heart in your mouth, the rush of air.
The world upside down, gravity working the way it never has before.
It registers very clearly that yes, you are falling.
In the distance, you can see the shadow of the pretty scene. The sky too, looks amazing.
Even as you fall to what would spell doom for you...
Can you come to regret having gone so high?
As you go down, you can't help but hope for a branch to catch on to.
Anything to catch you, and return you to the safety of the mountain once more.
Do they call it grasping at straws?
Then a queer sense of self-preservation wills yourself to jam brake. It whispers that you can avoid the impact all the way down there. It whispers that all this may be a dream, merely a dream that you need to wake up from. It whispers that there's some way of rescuing yourself.
It sounds too ideal to be true.
Some part of you has reconciled to the fact that you are falling.
All good things have an end, you think.
I have had my share of the fantastic things.
The impact would hurt like hell, but maybe, just maybe... the pain would be followed by unconsciousness soon after. The darkness of the void would take over.
Nothing really matters anymore.
I'm there right now, in the air.
Something stops me from cracking directly.
Self preservation is generally thought a good thing- but that probably just draws out that process.
In the end, it doesn't even matter.
Saturday, August 25, 2012 11:37 AM
It's all in my mind.
Words and feelings seem to mean nothing with time.
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Friday, August 24, 2012 11:51 PM
It's all in my mind.
我以为如果下意识没有期望，就不会失望。
看来，我错了。
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Monday, August 20, 2012 5:42 PM
It's all in my mind.
习惯了灯的明亮，黑暗变得格外的恐怖，孤单。
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Saturday, August 18, 2012 12:57 AM
It's all in my mind.
Do you notice?
The sky's tears are actually silent. The pitter-patter occurs when there's a ground to receive them,
A surface to catch them.
The howling of the rain is but a prelude,
Or the constant symptom of sorrow that you miss.
Just as a person's aura, it stays for the duration of the gloom.
Just as how you mayn't notice the rain if not for the roar of the storm.
Just as how the rain may fade into the background, unless it was pelting down on you, someone's sorrow may not register unless they lie in your path.
Tonight... We are youngIn the backdrop of the rain, the thrill of cold got to me.
So let's set the world on fire
We can burn brighter than the sun
I wonder how it'd be if there was no ground to meet the tears.
How does it feel, the heavy drops swallowed by the ocean?
The ocean, which can claim so much more in that body of fluid.
Will the tears become insignificant?
Can tears ever be insignificant?
I hope you know I hope you knowThe rain has the ground, the ocean.
That this has nothing to do with you
It's personal, myself and I
We've got some straightenin' out to do
No one is obligated to receive our tears.
Isn't that why there's the expression of crying blood? When the stream of our eyes dry out,
From neglect or isolation of the soul...
And the soul cries red.
Labels: Vague Ponderings
Thursday, August 16, 2012 10:49 PM
It's all in my mind.
Heartening. ^^ even if it wasn't face to face convo with my two squadmates,
The inkling of how the past used to be,
Followed up with how we will continue to chat for a long time...
I don't want to awake from this dream, to find myself as I am now. ^^
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Saturday, August 11, 2012 5:14 PM
It's all in my mind.
Just posted on squad blog, but that post is inadequate to fully express all the emotions that had gone through me on 9 August 2012.
All in all, I was glad that I didn't change my mind the last moment.
Andrew Matthews was the one who said that it was participating that was most enjoyable wasn't he?
I just about... felt it. ^^
I hope you'll never have to feel as wretched as I did that morning.
I hope you'll never feel that incredible extent of self-loathe as I looked into the mirror, seeing every possible defect, everything telling me I'm several universes away from perfection.
I hope you'll never feel that desperation as I pawed through my clothes. The exasperation as I threw my hair one way and another, hating how it did not stay, hating how it looked dreadful. It may sound funny to you- but the tears that wrung from my eyes, my being with the wretchedness was almost beyond my threshold of tolerance.
Hovering in the background was my sister's words the day before, saying that the actual day should be spent with family. And I realised that she was right. My Christmases, my New Year's Eve, my birthdays and now my National Day holiday... my friends had more claim to than my family.
And what made it worse was the realisation that since some time before, that was precisely my intent. To spend any possible day away from that house.
That guilt, when I realise that I should at least prioritize my sister first.
Torture can exist within the confines of your head you know.
I didn't want to exist, much less go out.
Do you never laugh?
That was one of the questions Hui Li's kiddo cousin, Grace, asked me as we had lunch.
Why do you keep sighing?
Why you don't want ice-cream? Paiseh to let jiejie Geri buy for you ah?
It was a change for me, in a sense. To have spot on observations thrown at you in a very neutral and matter-of-fact style, where there's no worry that your answers are judged.
And because we were bringing her cousin out, there wasn't really a need for me to commit more than two short sentences in reply to Hui Li's numerous mouthing/whispering of are you okay? The conversation topics didn't get serious. The kiddo was entertaining and ready to be entertained. Leagues from stuck up. Suited me perfectly.
It was as if I was briefly released from the noose that was slowly but surely suffocating me.
It was as if I was briefly released from the noose that was slowly but surely suffocating me.
Zoomed home with three doughnuts for my sister, and just as quickly a cement block slammed me in the face, making me reluctant to meet even my squadmates.
But I left.
I left.
Miserably late for the proposed meeting time, and found Freda waiting for the rest of us stragglers at City Hall mrt station. Ken appeared shortly, followed by Seow Hwee and finally, Shou.
The dreaded feeling, you know. When much of me is in a whirling mass of dark matter, to even contemplate pulling myself out seems impossible... Quite pathetic that though I was seeing my squadmates, in this state my smiles and words were frozen within the ice of near formality.
Though for Shou... The smile I went up to her with I think was, up to then, the most heartfelt. Perhaps her style, or the closeness- but it was impossible to be formal around Shou.
As we walked through City Link to Thai Express where we'd meet Chloe and Michele, I could feel my face in that dreaded cast again. Conversation doesn't flow properly through me either- I was silent.
Ken asked me why I looked so sian.Was told by Shou to be happy and not bored...
Do you understand my sense of worthlessness?
When my presence should be an addition to the comfort of my squadmates, not their uneasiness?
When I'm screwing their mood, the atmosphere?
Do you understand?
When I'm screwing their mood, the atmosphere?
Do you understand?
That day was the first time I went to Gardens by the Bay. Freda's too...
I looked around quite disconnectedly at the place. The evening was yet bright, and we didn't pass much in our straight line routes to find a spot.
Though if I had to say frankly, my mind was wandering. Any beauty of the Gardens visible in sunlight was, regardless, invisible to my eyes.
I watched the fireworks rather quietly, limiting my expressions of awe to exhalations. Funny enough, there were critics nearby who were just a tad worse- going on about how much money the government must have wasted on that display.
For me, I noted with amusement that light really traveled faster than sound.
And... I felt small. Watching that big, changing, magnificent display of light and colour, I felt indefinitely more insignificant. No one was denied its light display fully, nor were they exempted from its deafening sounds.
How much time must have been put into creating what was to be visible to the whole nation?
How each spark had a contribution to the overall picture, how they all seemed to have a place.
15 minutes of fame- did it apply to them as well? They were shot into the air, separated from their fellows into their planned positions, then burned out.
If I were a spark, would that kind of life have been sufficient?
For those few seconds in the air, shining with all your might, being praised and admired, then having your life extinguished in the middle of all that...
If I had to identify a general turning point that night, it would be about here. The fireworks I felt I watched in a rather detached manner, though I cannot track the effects it had on the rest of me.
I just know that I could breathe again.
So much laughter with Xing Yao around to joke with Freda. I actually laughed out loud many times, and frequently so pushed to the limits of positive exasperation that I couldn't help shoving his bag or shriek at him.
Somehow, I think it's because of his nonsensical approach. Not logical. Amusing, annoying, but lighthearted.
Unfortunately I don't think there was anyone who could control him (none in our party anyway *cough cough*), so the nonsense continued for as long as it entertained either him or us.
Unfortunately I don't think there was anyone who could control him (none in our party anyway *cough cough*), so the nonsense continued for as long as it entertained either him or us.
My pictures don't do it justice, but it was as if I stepped into a scene from some fairytale. Ignoring the lights by the side, the place had almost a magical feel about it. Of course I felt far from a princess-
I felt insignificant.
Entranced, I think I succumbed to the temptation of capturing the scene in a photograph. Though I realised a bit late that it was better to see the place yourself, through your own eyes.
This was the first time I remember being so intensely grateful for the gift of sight.
Meanwhile, Xing Yao continued trying on his DSLR.
We spammed group shots there I think. Spammed, because Xing Yao wanted the perfect settings on his DSLR, and because the picturesque scene was just crying to be utilised.
Such a serene spot, that if we could just raise our eyes to the heavens and lie under the (albeit artificial) canopy, the entire night could pass without us growing bored.
Imagine how hard it was for Ken to get us all up, and shepherd us to the bridge that would link us to MBS.
The place was pretty in its own way of course, but a different feel altogether.
The cool night breeze that enveloped you. The artificial light balancing with the darkness of night, not obnoxious in any way. Raised above the expressway, reminded that we still belong to civilisation, though we are not far from the embrace of nature.
Amazing.
I felt insignificant.
Entranced, I think I succumbed to the temptation of capturing the scene in a photograph. Though I realised a bit late that it was better to see the place yourself, through your own eyes.
This was the first time I remember being so intensely grateful for the gift of sight.
Meanwhile, Xing Yao continued trying on his DSLR.
We spammed group shots there I think. Spammed, because Xing Yao wanted the perfect settings on his DSLR, and because the picturesque scene was just crying to be utilised.
Such a serene spot, that if we could just raise our eyes to the heavens and lie under the (albeit artificial) canopy, the entire night could pass without us growing bored.
Imagine how hard it was for Ken to get us all up, and shepherd us to the bridge that would link us to MBS.
The place was pretty in its own way of course, but a different feel altogether.
The cool night breeze that enveloped you. The artificial light balancing with the darkness of night, not obnoxious in any way. Raised above the expressway, reminded that we still belong to civilisation, though we are not far from the embrace of nature.
Amazing.
Did I voice that to Freda? I clearly remember her response.
With her beside me, I was on the verge of sending every thought I had on that topic tumbling from my mouth.
But that's one of the mountains. That I cannot escape from, that weight pressing down on me, one so huge I'm lost as to where to start. I managed to voice one line.
With her beside me, I was on the verge of sending every thought I had on that topic tumbling from my mouth.
But that's one of the mountains. That I cannot escape from, that weight pressing down on me, one so huge I'm lost as to where to start. I managed to voice one line.
Her response was definitely to make me feel better. With it grounded in truth, it should have- but that wasn't enough to alleviate what has become an abyss of darkness within me. I should probably have communicated part of it- I may have felt better opening up to Freda. Yet each part is rooted in the whole. And the whole I cannot part with. In part stemming from selfishness, in part stemming from insecurity, in part stemming from that omnipresent fear of breaking down- no, I didn't part with it.
I left it at that.
I left it at that.
Xing Yao had, with a straight face, offered to let me take a photo on his DSLR. Even offered to let me post it as my first photo. Despite him having said earlier that he took two full hours to learn how to use his DSLR.
Wonder where that came from. That was nice.
But I declined... Partly because it was, after all, his camera, and his photographs, his work. The other part I vocalised was that seeing it with my eyes were enough. Xing Yao scoffed and responded that, no, it was absolutely not enough.
Wonder where that came from. That was nice.
But I declined... Partly because it was, after all, his camera, and his photographs, his work. The other part I vocalised was that seeing it with my eyes were enough. Xing Yao scoffed and responded that, no, it was absolutely not enough.
Which he had a point in. Photographs generally may not capture the essence of the entire scene, with all emotions, thoughts and connotations attached to it, but I fancy a DSLR quite faithfully preserves the scene. And the preserved photograph remains... probably longer or as long as our memories themselves.
The view at Gardens by the Bay was really wonderful. I declined the DSLR because I supposed seeing it with my own eyes did the present more justice.
As I watched it, and as I watched the fireworks, I had been reminded of how the rest of us may seem infinitesmal in comparison. So pretty. So changing.
Didn't want to leave, but leave we had to. Circumstances.
But I know I felt happy to have been there. With squadmates, no less...
In their presence, oxygen returned to my lungs substantially.
I am alive yet.
Didn't want to leave, but leave we had to. Circumstances.
But I know I felt happy to have been there. With squadmates, no less...
In their presence, oxygen returned to my lungs substantially.
I am alive yet.
Labels: Deep Emotions, Hotshots♥ /RVNP
12:31 AM
It's all in my mind.
Looking around desperately, seeking seeking seeking seeking... But not finding.
Why not... Just let me fall and shatter into an infinitesimal number of pieces.
It'd be a relief.
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Saturday, August 4, 2012 5:49 PM
It's all in my mind.
When I fall, would you know to catch me?
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Friday, August 3, 2012 8:46 PM
It's all in my mind.
It was a good question. Why I do only the left hand side and not those on the right.
I'm sure if I were to track, it'd have begun way before this year. And I'm just as sure that it worsened this year.
I remember telling Kristine that while I cannot speak my mind as she so openly does with me, for me, I genuinely appreciate it and find it great it's her style. I'd like to know. I'd ever told Seow Hwee something similar too. It's just I can't. There's a lid so heavy over me.
Peh Peh said that I restricted myself too much. That my emotions are not let out. Even when I cry, I don't cry everything out.
Which seems so true.
... so very true.
That Wushu session. I'd cried myself hollow the night before. The wretched body I lugged to school, late no less, was in no way a good shape. My eyes were swollen since they opened that Wednesday. It only got redder, my nerves more rung to nothingness after that. There's so much under the surface, I recognise that myself. Each moment trying to hold it in, yet losing it the instant I try.
Without those three lung-searing rounds around the track, I don't think I would have recovered before math lecture.
I know Andrew Matthews said that happiness was a choice.
But for part of today, it just stuck on my face.
I amuse myself with the thought that I may be one of those Snape said wore their hearts on their sleeves.
Gloria's observation was.... amazingly spot on.
It sounds queer, but sometimes I don't ask despite my urge to know because I worry the question would be unwelcome. That to satisfy my curiosity I will be bringing a degree of hurt to others.
And when I don't say, it's probably because I find it unreasonable to speak of. It bothers me, but I trap the thought within me so it can't wreak havoc anywhere but within me.
Probably the wrong approach, for nothing is solved... And the wrong approach since not telling won't improve communication or relationships. To me it seems petty to feel bothered over little things...
Yet as long as I haven't achieved letting go, it probably continues to bother me.
When I don't call, if I don't text, it doesn't mean you're not on my mind. I worry that I'll be a nuisance. I worry that you're not free enough to entertain me.
I worry that you'll reply merely from politeness.
When I don't look for you or skip over to join you, my squadmates, my friends, my cadets, it doesn't mean I don't feel like doing so.
Tell me the worry of being unwelcome isn't unique to me. Tell me the worry of being awkward isn't unique to me.
"When we are tired, we are attacked by ideas we conquered long ago."
... It is, in my case.
