The healing power of music on a confused mind. If I pay with my ears I wonder if it is still too high a cost?
When will I be able to look past people's eyes into their soul?
That which I see from hers are blank, disinterested, even as her demeanour ought suggest otherwise.
Is it me trying to see too much? Or is it something I'm likewise liable to being misunderstood in?
The limited interaction, yet the positive intention that I might get from his words, the positive expression on his face. I wonder.
In this world that draws vague lines between connections and friends, will I find my feet before I fall?
Will my eyes see that which doesn't exist, or fail to see that which does?
So many things to remember. So many things to remember it seems inevitable to forget.
The words he said, the ideas mentioned. The conversation will dip on my side, but heaven forbid- I need to keep up my end of the talking before it fails.
I just have a gut feeling that after MC this semester, it would be the end.
The rubbishy mood I left psyche with, left SOE with... Somehow managed to lift in the presence of them. Jolene. Josh. Zong Wei. And the SICS group, in general. To be fair Bobo noticed. But the more I tried to talk the worse it became.
So trashy the mood I despaired for the interview I was to attend thereafter. PNK, with that mood.
Being with them helped, tons. I just wonder whether I can do the same back.
One year down the road, would things stay? I genuinely hope it does. It would be too big a pity.
Taking measured, baby steps.
Slowly, one foot forward. Then, another.
So slow that I'm on the verge of losing my balance. Literally.
Passing faces that vaguely look familiar- from somewhere I must have seen them.
Strangers, but not really.
Having people zip past me, I wonder what they think.
I wonder whether I ought feel obliged to pick up my pace.
It feels necessary- yet for what?
I'm not accompanied- I drag no one down.
The clock's ticking- yet I have time to spare.
Would anyone notice and comment?
Would anyone notice and stop?
Would anyone notice and keep pace?
Taking baby steps, I believe I'm but living out a dumbed down version of my life.
Slow, where everyone's quick to learn.
Not serious, where everyone's zipping around chasing that which I can try to not care for.
Being an anomaly, and not being sure how to be a good sort of different.
If people were to look upon the microcosm of society in that split second, what would they think?
A hollowness, perfectly irrational.
A treacherous whisper, suggesting that what she said was actually true, what they say would actually be true.
Trapped between two extremes. They say that duality is the way of the world: light and dark, chaos and peace.
Even subconscious expectations bring with it the potential to disappoint.
To have held too tightly to words. To have checked my phone one too many times. Deja vu- I'm sure I've done this before. A creeping certainty that I have to learn the long way as I have learnt before: don't hold them to their words, don't assume they'll remember.
What I don't expect but instead observe ends up telling me more.
A faultless expression. It was so clear that the group was not in the mood. It was clear that what he put on whatsapp, for all to see, was one small reason, one small excuse that will allow the group to follow their disinclination for dessert. It seems like he was voluntarily placing himself on the record as the cause.
To have been warned by her word choice, and prepared my heart to be still from reaction, my head to be devoid of thoughts.
I'm glad she told me that, honestly. Now I know potentially how people view me, smuggles or otherwise. That I'm a negative person is not wrong. I can be extremely fatalistic when it has to do with my own insecurities. But I should hope I don't seem to be the type of negative that drags people down, despite me not having the skill of bringing positivity into people's heart.
I'm glad that she showed the short fuse as well. I wish I could say I don't judge, because I don't feel like I am- but as a squirrel scurrying to store its nuts, it's one more piece of information for me to keep in mind.
Legit to get bothered when the other party misunderstands the cause of her stress, and legit to get bothered when what she wished heard was unaddressed, and instead I brought confusion by addressing something else. Legit. But now I get a better sense of where her bottom limit is when in that mood.
Unlike the guys, I've not such positive energy to help much.
Sentiments of my past life come echoed back to me.
How she felt she was the only one putting in effort in the group and everyone was drifting away. How she felt she was putting in effort but people seemed to value it differently than she did. How she wanted to keep this group yet knew that everyone will have other people to be with. How she felt that in uni people weren't friends but were there for connections- how I was confounded, while the other agreed.
Is it really? Well, that'd be a disappointment, because I don't wish it that way. But the lack of effort thing I get. Four camps later, I have made friends- but sometimes with every added commitment the toll on relationships increase. Workload gets real. There's barely personal time anymore.
Her meeting up every single week with her boyfriend and being dependent. While the rest either ask her to rest assured or laugh at her for being paranoid... I actually understand. Yet it's not my place to speak.
A weight sinks.
Not for the first time, I feel that it would be quite amazing to yield the power that DJs do.
And once again, I wonder what energy fuels them all.
I watch with a half smile.
8 August.
As some have previously said, there ought to be firsts for many things. Don't be prejudiced and just try- and for a lot of firsts, just try once to determine whether you like it. Who knows, you could learn much from it.
Well, I guess I have learnt much. It's a very interesting sensation to be at a club... and definitely I've learnt that it's an experience I don't want to repeat again.
I'm sure I've learnt the cause of our generation being deaf much faster than previous generations. Definitely, since blaring music exceeds the volume on my earpieces. Moreover I have no choice in the music.
Cynical commentary aside however, it was a very instructive experience. Probably not what many would think embodied the totality of a clubbing experience, but regardless...
To people watch and realise that people are likewise watching you. In an environment whereby what you say momentarily counts for nothing, and people's eyes register only what is on the surface to judge.
Appearance. Bearing. Confidence. Desirability. Energy.
It's not my playing field, but undoubtedly one in which the more sensual will flourish in. I sit out while looking like I'm connecting somewhat to the atmosphere to not appear rude to she who was guiding us along to our first try at clubbing- it seems to be enough so I was left alone. From the corner of my eye I see Huili wasn't thus easily let off, and I'm not sure whether to laugh or to pity.
I people watch, and try to wonder what people will judge of those I see.
The DJ- what can he see through the darkness behind the mass of dancing bodies before him? Why'd he make the songs work that way? What's his objective? Does he know how far his influence reaches? Will he believe himself tied to the consequences?
Those clearly less inclined at dancing but are led along by the energy supplied by the thunderous music- what do people see?
Those clearly in their element and in a bubble that surrounds their friends, paying apparently little attention to anyone else- what do people think?
The rather stiff guy and, presumably, his girlfriend who was trying to influence the mood onto him- what does he think? Will he appreciate the effort, or feel more estranged from her?
Those who drink gulps from the bottle directly, under the influence of their friends- would they regret it? Can they tank the alcohol?
Those seated near a table scattered with bottles upon bottles of alcohol- how expensive is it? What occasion requires thus much alcohol? In a club no less?
Those I recognise, drunk or dancing- will I see them the same way again?
Those that even through my inattentive eyes I realise are watching us- are they merely people watching as I am, or are they waiting for something to happen? What do they see, and why do they keep turning over?
Clubs run on a different currency than I'm accustomed.
I think I'll keep it that way.
Smuggles camp 2014: the more you KNOW the more you KNOW you don't KNOW.
After three days of camp I think this is definitely the most beautiful picture we have of the clan Sherlock Holmes. Unofficially, undeniably, best selfie clan.
I don't know where to start. I don't know how to give this blog post a balanced persepctive.
But who am I kidding? A balanced perspective doesn't exist outside academia.
I don't want to be asked about how I expected this camp to be. I can't vocalise my expectations because I'm not consciously aware of any. I didn't have any info to go on, besides from SICS faci, Songko- he reassured me during Coral lunch gathering that the scholars were a close bunch, and nice people who didn't outgroup the non scholars. I guess my only expectation was to hope that it'd be like that for my batch too.
I don't want to be asked what I think, because I know that the answer will not be what you want to hear, and will not be appropriate feedback. And so when I'm not joining in the fun and laughter, I'm plagued by the thoughts in my head- that which everyone will jump to say 'you're thinking too much'. When I'm huddling in a corner in the distance, I'm not trusting myself to go over and join in properly.
How does it feel when a firefly looks upon the brilliance of fire in the dark of the night?
Its own meager light, that which its identity is built upon, next to a source of overwhelming warmth, the embodiment of light- fire at the height of its beauty.
So beautiful, that the firefly yearns with all its little self to approach, gaze upon it forever.
So comfortably warm, that the firefly is drawn as if in a trance.
Yet as it comes too close, the light eliminates all else in its line of sight, that only upon the firefly turning its back on the fire will everything gradually get in perspective.
Yet as it comes too close, the warmth turns scalding, and the firefly worries that moving any closer would obliterate itself.
The fire beckons, and beckons- can it feel at all, how much the firefly wished it had the courage to move forward toward the flickering flames? How much the firefly wished it dared- but was held back by the absolute certainty in its little insignificant self will burn into a crisp and disappear into oblivion.
The fire beckons- but if the firefly is insistent fire would understand. From afar fire encourages- encourages the firefly to burn with the same light; can it feel at all, how much the firefly wished it was possible? How much the firefly wished it could exude the same enthralling warmth, command the same strength of light?
But the firefly knows that regardless, fire will continue to dance as it always danced, commanding brilliant threads of colour and making its surroundings quiver in the dead of the night.
That is just about the head and tail of what I felt in the past few days of camp.
As I watched the guys go all out for the games, like fussball, blindfolded dog and bone as well as the water bomb related games... I was really envious, actually. Having fun is kindergarten stuff, but it seems that my lack of knowledge in that field never showed itself as a weakness until this camp. Being serious I have always known, but it had always served as some form of shield, something I could hide behind and get away with. It has become a weakness, a barrier from which I know not how to come out from.
I wish I could be on the same frequency- only I wasn't. I know I was thinking too much. I know I was looking too deeply at the underlying ideas, imagining probabilities behind actions that were possibly all in good fun, and limited to when they were having fun. But still, it bothered me. And I know that when asked, it would be an answer that no one wants to hear.
At some point I was on the verge of tears, and when I wasn't I was clearly losing my grip from the stress. Is it surprising? I have always sucked at dance- and now I had to be coached by two guys and a girl on how to do an extremely short catwalk... Something everyone could do, and not I. Some actions, some poses, I have to ask them to slow down and please repeat it- I can't help but wonder to myself what is wrong with me, for me not to be able to do something that comes so naturally to them.
"Chest out, butt out"- say what? I can't comprehend- will I even be able to balance? And yet they can, and when I try I see from their eyes that no, that was not how it was done.
"Swing your hips"- like how? I can feel a cramp working up in my hips when I try, and yet they do it like no one's business. I can swear on my life that I wasn't thinking "This is stupid" at any point of time. I wasn't. I was thinking "How the heck is this done?", and "Shit, why is it that the guys will make ten times better girls than me?"
Yet I can tell it. That they would be a bunch that I can have fun with as a group. I could try to integrate myself among them. I could love that atmosphere. I just don't know how.
Some other details noted elsewhere. The details of some conversations, its effect, my thoughts.
14 August 2014: Post convocation K at teoheng.
It's kind of strange, kind of funny, that the abovementioned sentiment was what I left Smuggles camp with... And my attitude kind of had a drastic change by the time I was at the beginning of SOSC camp. That will be a different story altogether.
And yet, perhaps it was talking to Kahyan after the camp and then meeting such a welcoming warm group in SOSC camp that my feelings towards Smuggles changed?
I know not. But now I seem to be able to genuinely laugh with them, laugh at them, and actually try to have fun with them.
Whoever was it who suggested singing, to my alarm? Still I enjoyed myself.
Those who watched out for me at camp continue to, in their own way, and I really appreciate it: whether it comes in the form of complimenting me on my dismal singing, encouraging me to take the mic for a song I just definitely knew, or just creating that really warm group atmosphere that I could soak in.
"If it's easy you're either doing it wrong or someone is helping you."
It's not easy, and yet I can somehow breathe a bit better now, not having the weight of my insecurities and my brooding mind chained onto my person as it did at camp. I still do lament- but it's not clouding my interaction, not now.
It's not easy, but I can sense that people are helping me. I just think that if I thanked them for it, they'd be bewildered at me and start on a tirade of how they weren't, or how it is no trouble at all...
The late night is getting to me. Incoherence lurks.
In plainest words, I hope we get along like this, for a very long time.
May we continue get along.
I feel a dreadful countdown.
In a little while all that I failed to do in this period that I allocated myself to slack will crash onto me. So much to do, and so little I've done.
Where did the time go?
I want to finish writing my delayed blog posts.
A levels.
Munch.
SICS camp.
FTB camp.
One rest day between Smuggles and SOSCIETY camp.
Then all that I wanted to rewatch and evaluate.
Death note.
Shingeki no Kyojin.
White Christmas.
Game of Thrones.
I really have to finish it.
