A good decision

Once again, I am not so sure as to how I should write this entry.

*takes a deep breath* *Maybe the oxygen will help me pen my thoughts*

*I am not sure but I would like to believe that it has helped*

The RCIA session last night focused on the family and how it has shaped you to become the person you are.

How uncanny a coincidence.

So really, how has my family shaped me?

To be honest, my most immediate reply would be that it has not done anything.

Because I didn't grow up with my parents, remember?

But that is of course, just a superficial answer.

Por supuesto, my parents had influenced me in a variety of ways.

Even by not interfering---think about it. Isn't no choice a choice?

And if no choice is a choice, isn't all choices an option too?

Whatever it is, I have to confess I used to hate the way I am.

And to be frank, once in a while, the sentiment resurfaces.

I hate my humble upbringings, and the fact that I am burdened with their burden.

I hate their lack of planning and their take-it-as-it-is-and-Heaven-will-help-when-necessary mentality.

The truth is, I still believe that God helps those who help themselves.

That aside, I am thankful that I tried to be the best I can.

(Gee, sounds like some speech people say when they are going to die hoh? Aiyoh, no la. Please don't get the wrong idea. I am merely doing some reflections)

My parents offered me a humble upbringing. Unfortunately, my relatives were the mercenary ones.

I can remember being compared to my same age cousin and her brother, who were the highest achievers in my paternal family.

All the time. For as long as I can remember.

(My maternal family is more relaxed. Thank God. Can you imagine two walls cornering me? One is quite enough...really.)

One became a doctor. One became a lawyer.

And for a while, I was really upset about things that my uncle had said (I think he said it when I was quite young, say 10 years old thereabouts?).

My daughter will become a lawyer and yours (telling to my dad) will be just a clerk outside the lawyer's office.

I remember feeling very bitter.

My dad? He can just laugh. He is always like that.

And what else can I say? I can only pretend I didn't understand, even when they were speaking in Mandarin.

Deep down inside, I told myself that I will never let his 'vision' materialize.

And that I was going to be bigger than a clerk outside the lawyer's office.

As to what construes 'bigger', then, I hadn't the least idea. I just know I must perform, and I must make him swallow his words.

At least that was really what I had told myself.

So, really, my high-achieving, perfectionist nature is not without basis. I mean, yes, I was already doing relatively well in school; that incident (coupled with another in my toddler years) just spurred me harder.

Is it a good thing?

Ha, I don't know.

I can't judge, can I? But anyhow, I have to just say, maybe I am melancholy in nature, maybe I am always trying to be more achieving, I am still happy at the way I turned out.

(I am not sure if I would have said the same thing had I not gone to the States).

A good person, at the very least.

That is important, isn't it?

I am not perfect, but at least, I know my heart is clean and pure. (um..although sometimes I have to confess that I wish my heart was a little blacker, then I can be nonchalant about the many vexing issues in my life. Ah-ha! Escapism!)

But really, what I mean to say with this entry is...

(Apparently, there had been comments that I tell good stories...as in my 'plot' development in my blog is interesting. I hope this entry still carries that flavour. *smiles*)

I am not sure if my decision to take up the position is the best thing I can do.

But I am sure, I am doing it not because of my own needs/wants and that makes me contented.

Wait..what am I saying?

...

I have accepted a full-time position at a company.

Yes...*cringe*

It is not something I had imagined.

The thing is, going back to my previous institution is more favourable, in terms of time resource allocation.

But financially, it is a little tough.

No, it is not that they don't pay me well. It is just that...(I will explain in a while).

The current offer requires a 42-hour work week, and they are actually able to work around the timings I take my Diploma course.

One tick.

They pay me CPF (um...I have never really had much contributions and I need it...kind of).

One tick.

They allow me to engage in resource planning.

One tick.

The pay allows me to plan ahead.

Two ticks.

If you would believe it, my heart goes out to working in the Polytechnic.

For one, I will have ample time to study. For my Chinese course exams which happen almost every month.

And for my Japanese course.

And for me to revise my Spanish before I head back for a level placement test (and yes, I will take it up again--I just don't know when because I don't have the time right now).

How many ticks is that?

Three ticks.

But if you level it out, and putting my long-term plan into perspective, it is not something I can manage with.

And really, if you think about it, I didn't really take up this job for myself.

I take it up for them.

Silly? Maybe.

Stupid? Maybe.

But am I regretful? Am I hateful? Am I resentful?

...

No.

Surprisingly.

I don't know how much you know of my future plans...but one thing is for sure, the States was not meant to be my last stop.

(Wait, I say this in my perspective. Of course, if God makes me stay in Singapore, I cannot actually do anything.)

I still want to explore Japan. Central America.

Shanghai. Taiwan.

And because of that, I need to work towards that plan.

Right?

...

Life is not a bed of roses. It never was meant to be.

At any one time, we are climbing. Or we are resting.

The way I see it: I have climbed a bit. Maybe it is time to rest.

How long will I rest?

I don't know...I give myself 1 year-1 and a half years.

If I get the Japan stint, good.

If I don't get the Japan stint, then I will take a short holiday to Central America and stay there for a month or two.

(Again, I emphasize, these are merely plans in my little neural network, which I plan to execute. I may not be able to do it, but I will work towards it.)

Then I will re-examine my options (and hopefully, pray that my Spanish is of such functional proficiency that I can work in Spain)...

...

So really, is this a good decision?

*silence*

I won't really know.

But it is the best I can do for them for now.

And that is quite sufficient.

To listen harder

Pardon my errantic behaviour and hence bewildering entry yesterday.

I am feeling better today. Much better.

...

I guess, after all my thoughts have settled down--thanks to the help of R--I can't help but admit that maybe I really shouldn't be trying too hard.

I am really hoping for acceptance. I am really craving for understanding.

But really, can my family really really understand me?

Can they really understand why I do certain things, and why I don't do certain things?

Can they really appreciate the reason why I adopt certain modes, and why I don't recommend other means?

I don't know.

I can just say, I tried my best, because I had thought that it was just that physical ocean that separated us.

Maybe not. Maybe not, after all.

...

So why is my life empty? Or rather, why am I feeling that my life is empty?

I think its a variety of reasons. Ultimately, maybe because I have lost focus.

Aiyoh...I don't know why that happens to me so much. Losing focus seems to be in my blood.

What are my goals in life?

Umm...

Umm...

I can't comment as of now. But I am sure I do have them somewhere in sight.

Lurking in some corner of my head. Waiting to be unveiled.

I think, I just need to listen hard enough.

Or rather, listen harder.

Something which I haven't been able to do since I got back.

Which I should really endeavour to do this Holy Week.

Hitting rock-bottom. Breathe.

I am feeling very shitty today.

So bear with me--this is going to be a shitty entry.

Super shitty. Depressing. Melancholy.

Dark. Evil. Lurking.

Demonic (I am exaggerating).

...

I have lost the spring in my step.

I think I lost it since Sat.

The truth is, it feels bad enough to be living a life of waste.

What is a life of waste? I don't know.

Like me now. Wasting away.

No, not wasting time away. I am living a life of abundance.

I have so many things to do and worry about that I have no time to stone. 'I' am so abundant.

But I feel my soul wasting away.

I hate life now. I hate it.

I hate the environment. The space that chokes me to death. The many routines and rules.

I hate the people. The quarrels. The good-for-nothing people in my life.

I hate the lessons I need to learn. Money lessons. Time lessons.

I hate everything now.

I hate God.

I hate myself.

I hate everything....

so much so that I wish I can run away.

...

But I can't run anymore.

There is no place to run to.

Or rather, I have just decided to stay right here and be brave.

Although I don't know how to fight all this. Frankly.

Although I don't even think I can do it. Honestly.

Although I can feel each and every cell in my body breaking away, wasting away...

I wish I can just take my heart out and paint it the way the whole world wants me to be.

That would be nice, really nice.

I wouldn't cry.

I wouldn't be frustrated.

I wouldn't need to blog.

Then I won't be having issues with everything, and looking like a misfit.

...

And stop giving me the advice that everyone has their ups and downs.

Sorry, I hope you don't take it the wrong way.

I know you will say that and I am grateful for that.

So really, thanks. I appreciate the gesture.

It is just not the thing I need.

I know what I need...so really, just stay where you are and continue breathing.

That is enough for me, for now.

...

That is it. Just keep on breathing.

The art of being crazy

I am 'done' with classes for one more module. Yay.

It means I have another six more modules to go. Which frankly, feels like a long time, but um, I am sure is bear-able.

I have been back for nearly a month now. And it feels like a long time again.

And no, don 't get me wrong. I do not mean to say that this one month has been tormenting; I am just commenting that it feels like I have been back for a long time. As to why I have this feeling, I am not exactly sure.

I guess I don't really need to know why anyway.

...

I have submitted my first (actually, it is not strictly my first because a long time back--say 15 years ago at least) I once tried to submit my article too.

Of course, I was disappointed.

And honestly, if you ask me now, I would say that I have a feeling my article will be rejected.

It is one thing for myself to be confident of my writing, and another for people to like my writing.

It is one thing to write in my little book of reflections and another for people to read my reflections.

Whatever it is, I wouldn't know. If they like it, they will let me know (I think). If it is not up to standard, then well, I will just take it as it is.

Acknowledgement. That is what I will do.

*smiles*

...

On the little list in front of me, I have 3 items under the heading "TO-DO".

One is to write and then try my luck at submitting; the next is to send a recording to become a part-time dee-jay, and the last is to bake.

Will I really get down to doing it?

That is a hard question.

I mean, if you ask me, why do I choose these three? Well, because these are things I have ALWAYS wanted to do.

(But then the irony is, I always want to do so many things. So really, for me to get down to this list, is a miracle!)

Put it another way: These are things which I have always wanted to do, and which I feel I shouldn't delay any longer.

Yes, I like this way of putting it.

...

If you think about it, the cycle of acceptance and rejection is but another phase of a natural cycle in life.

Like the commenter on the two young managers put it (these two men put in their own capital to open a new cinema in Singapore), it is all about being 'crazy'.

Of course, that is my exaggerated interpretation of the word.

What I mean, in a more acceptable version, is to be passionate.

"If there is no sense of adventure, then there won't be an audience. There won't be creativity because there won't be productions. There won't be directors and there won't be scripters. How then do you expect the foreign firms to support local films?"

(I am still trying to hone my art in translation).

We all have little dreams.

And part of the process of weaving dreams is the acceptance that there is potential for failure, and the acknowledgement that rejection is part of life.

And so I live my life thereon.

...

And maybe that is why the one month has seemed to be a long time...

27 steps up the mountain

It is raining again this morning.

Another gloomy and almost-stormy (the meterologist forecast thunders, but they haven't reached us yet) day.

I don't like the rain (but I like Sun Yan-zi though).

(Did you just scratch your head? Um, Sun Yan-zi sang yu tian and tian hei hei wah...oki, never mind.)

Anyway, I don't like the rain. So it makes me gloomy too.

...

It was my birthday yesterday.

It wasn't one that was estupendamente.

Why, you asked?

Hhmm, maybe because I didn't get treats?

Hhmm, maybe because I didn't get many presents?

Hhmm, maybe it is because I didn't get many cards?

Hhmm, maybe it is because I feel forgotten?

I don't know.

I really don't know.

But the radio show yesterday did give me a bit of an insight.

The dee-jay was reflecting on how she was feeling down during the Chinese New Year, a season she usually associated with joy and happiness.

As in, on other years, she would be very excited. But this year, she wasn't feeling that way at all.

It was on a talk show and there was a guest who had been invited to sit in to offer her opinions.

Apparently, it was all a matter of being overburdened.

And as the dee-jay reflected, she had to agree.

She was preparing for her two-month study while trying to meet deadlines at work.

In other words, there were competing priorities everywhere. And her psyche just couldn't manage it.

Is that me? Gee, I don't know.

But I do feel disgruntlement. That, I have to confess.

There are some things that I badly want to shake off, which I will hence not bring to discussion anymore. If you had read my previous blog before I left for the US, you will know what it is. Sadly, it is still the same thing.

Sadly and disappointingly, nothing has changed. When I would have assumed otherwise.

I guess I was too naive.

You know, we still have misgivings por supesto (of course); I just decide not to brood about it.

Exactly how hard that is, I can't comment. I can only say, sometimes I really feel like taking a stool and wrecking everything in my sight.

Eh, and to think I have always thought I am amicable (coughs) and easy-going (coughs again). Maybe I do have violence tendencies too huh! So everyone beware!

But these days I take the option of taking a stroll in the park downstairs. I may not always return home with a clear head (sometimes the mosquitoes get the better of me and I return more flustered...haha) but the teary eyes do really make me feel slightly better.

Yes, I am a cry-er. I don't feel ashamed by that.

Just that day, she had asked me why I cry. "Why are you crying when you are so old already?"

And I retorted "MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS".

It is not something I would have imagined that I could say, or that I will ever say. But I had said it.

With a tone that I have never imagined to use.

Did I mean it? Had I accidentally let it all off? Had I unknowingly hurt someone's feelings?

The thing is, before I left for US, I was always taking it down. (Yes, you will know too, right? Now you know why my previous blog is black?) Whatever people said, however wrong it may be, however unjustified it was, I had taken it all down inside.

Just so that there will be peace. For everybody.

I was a bottle. A bottle that was bottomless.

That could take all nonsense indefinitely.

Or so I had hoped to be. Or aspired to become.

So when everyone has had their feel cursing and scolding and lamenting, I was left bruised. By the many unkind words which are probably unintentional.

Please note, I do know that they are unintentional. I just don't have the same practice because I mean things that I say.

So when I was confronted that day, and I lost it, I just said the things that I really had felt for a long time--good-for-nothing, loafer,...

It doesn't matter if he processes it and gets hurt. He had hurt me in the first place.

...

The fact is, I don't know if this change is good.

But it does feel good to stand up for myself.

And so, I guess this period of gloominess is something I have to fight.

They don't like the idea of my prospective job. Because...to them, it is not a 'proper' job.

I don't know why. I don't steal and I don't rob.

But maybe that is the way it is. I would never do things that make them happy.

I acknowledge the fact that we have competing requests. I acknowledge the fact that we have differing requests.

I also acknowledge the fact that no matter what we do, it is not going to please 100%.

I acknowledge that as long as I can account to my conscience and to God, nothing else really matters.

What good does pointing fingers do? If I may point fingers, should I point my fingers at my parents for the lack of financial planning? Or should I point my fingers for their lack of financial education?

Or do I point my finger at my brother for being a skiver, and a good-for-nothing?

Or maybe I should point my finger at myself for not having the courage and the psyche to walk away from home and live independently on my own? (And then I can point fingers at myself for not being filial with all the other fingers that are pointing at me.)

I am doing my best. That I am positive.

I have a wandering heart. I am trying my very best to curb it.

I so much want to run away, that I have to confess. But I have chosen not to this time round, for now at least, to stay put and climb this step.

I remember reading once, that life is like climbing a mountain (no, it is not a box of chocolates; I don't like chocolates). You cannot look down; you just have to keep your head up.

You have to persevere every step--because only when you make the effort without sticking your hands in the pockets, can you climb.

You cannot hesitate too long; you just have to keep on walking.

And when you get to the top of the mountain, you will see the magnificent view.

You will then appreciate it.

It is a difficult analogy, but I hope it will work for you if you are in a difficult situation right now.

As I was sharing with my mum, we all have crosses. That is using the Christian perspective.

Maybe for you, you can liken life to a mountain.

We all have mountains to climb, some smaller than others. Some steeper than others.

From afar, someone else's mountain may look easier; well, I can only say that the grass will always look greener on the other side.

Whatever it is, your mountain is personalized. By the many little decisions in your life which you never thought mattered.

(Wah, I sound so philosophical).

And if I ponder to reflect on myself a day after my birthday, I have to confess that 6mth stint in the USA was really worthwhile.

At the very least, I have learnt to stand up for myself.

And not have to put up with nonsense which I find ridiculous.

...

Anyway, I am kidding about the presents and the cards and the feeling about being forgotten.

(I hope you realized that!)

I am grateful that you are reading my blog and sharing my journey with me. That is what really matters.

Everyday is a birthday. If I am living true to my core everyday.

And I do hope we will scale hand-in-hand all the mountains in our lives together.

Aiyah...

I don't actually have much to write about. Ha, it is funny that I never seem to be in neutrality. I am either too busy to blog (and that is when I have a lot of grievances to voice, incidentally) or now, when I have the time to blog, I don't actually have much to say.

Actually, I do have something to say. I just don't quite know how to structure it to say it properly.

Anyhows...

I was initially exasperated at all the waiting I have been doing. One of the parties called me up on Sunday night.

It was to my delight, and to my parent's disappointment.

My delight because it was somewhat the thing I am hoping for.

To my parents' disappointment is evident...I mean, if it is something I hope for, it is probably (though not always) something they don't quite hope for.

Whatever it is, the fact that I had told myself that I will take whatever that comes first means I will take it.

It is not an easy decision to do that. I mean, I really do hope to do something to make them happy...

It just didn't happen. Yet. Now.

...

To a certain extent, I am thankful. Thankful because this is one step closer to my original intentions.

But having said that, please do not get the wrong impression--I do acknowledge that I can be disappointed and that this is just one miniature shift in the particular direction I am steering, or at least hoping to steer, to.

I mean, I am thrilled, even though I know this kind of a life has the potential to wear me out. The thing is, I figured I will be worn out willingly. You know what I mean? (Although the truth is, I will be worn out willingly no matter what the situation is. Duh...)

...

I don't know how to look at mi cumpleanos.

I think I should be happy that I am spending it here, but I am not exactly feeling that way. I think the burdens of life are blocking my sight.

And frankly, I have to confess that I do wonder about being here. It is so strange, but I feel this way.

And yes, my old tendency is sneaking up on me again! Aiyah! *hits the tendency*

*Gee...I am starting to look like I am in some Korean drama, ain't I?*

...

I guess this year is a bit less different.

I have no sense of anticpation. Which is weird.

Am I too busy? Um...no comments.

Am I too fed-up? Um...no comments.

Am I too...I don't know. I guess it is just different.

...

Another organization just called me up and said they may be interested in granting me an interview.

I wished I had said no, but I didn't.

Yikes.

And no, that is also not something that will make my parents happy.

Is it me, or is it them, I don't know.

I wish we are communicating more...but we aren't.

And I am really not sure why that is so.

I just hope I won't be defeated

I started my first day of 'job' yesterday.

I said 'job' because it is not really my job. It is just something I do for initiation.

For that first chance that will turn into something hopefully bigger in future.

No, I am still waiting for prospective employers to get back to me. I have written to a few prospective organizations and I am waiting...

No, nobody has got back to me yet.

So yes, I am a little vexed...not exactly because nobody is getting back to me, but kind of related to that.

Because my parents keep thinking I am not looking hard enough.

But I am trying my best already. I really am.

...

I just want to sigh.

My mum just brought up one facet of the past which I have absolutely no recollection of.

She said, during my volunteer trip to Vietnam, she had asked me not to go, but I had insisted.

She said because of her surgery then, she had requested that I not go. But I hadn't heeded her call.

She said she had hit my brother hard because he had refused to run her errands and she was physically bleeding and what not.

Um, I am very disappointed in her when I heard that.

Why disappointed?

Because...just when I thought she and I were both ready to start on a fresh sheet of paper, she brought this up.

I mean, can I cite the thousand and one times when she had broken my heart? I can..., I think, if I want to.

But I have chosen not to. And I have chosen to not bring it into my memory never again.

Why is it, at this phase of life, does she still want to cling on to the past?

What good does it do?

I don't have an answer, and I bet I never will. Because I will never be her. And I don't ever want to be her.

So I am lying if I said I am not affected.

Um...I know her memory can be corrupted so exactly how true it is, I hold my reservations.

I am pissed, yes. I am pissed because I am not even sure if it is true or not...and here I am, having to bear with her grieved outpourings all because she saw this painting which aroused her particular facet of memory.

Whatever.

You know, I am at home not because I choose to be at home. I am at home because I need to be at home. Else, who will mop the floor?

Definitely not her.

I have mopped the kitchen floors and the living room floors.

Nowadays, I try to wash the dishes when I can.

Yes, I am beginning to become like an ama de casa.

I am not saying I am a filial kid or what. I am far from one, I clearly know.

But at moments when I get snapped at like this, I am not sure why I am doing it when my mum is not working.

And I shall not venture on to discuss it either.

...

I can only say that it is difficult to live life the way it should be lived out. Slowly. One day at a time.

The waiting will be hard. Like how it is now. Waiting for prospective employers to get back to me.

Waiting, because whether I get a temporary job offer or a permanent job offer will determine if I stay in Singapore next year.

I am anxious. I am nervous.

And I am worried too.

All because I don't know if I can handle God's decision.

I know it sounds very phantom-ish to liken all life's happenings to God.

But that is what faith is about, isn't it? If you have a faith, you will understand.

Living the life out when you have no explanations.

I still hear voices in my head telling me to do this and I still wonder about the feasibility of it. But when that happens, I try to remind myself of what R is always telling me:

Believe that that voice is God's.

And really, I do that.

I still have doubts of course, since I am human.

But I try to do it nonetheless.

...

All I can say is, for now, I am glad that I picked up some aspects of my life.

I have my Chinese Diploma classes. I have a part-time Chinese teaching job. I am going to start my RCIA (say YAY!) next Wednesday.

I do my fair share of household duties. I pay for some of the groceries.

I am looking around for dance class and art class. And no, I can't really pick them up until I find a job because I have no dineros.

Life is hard. It is.

So hard that I want to cry.

So hard that I sometimes wish I hadn't done my Masters but had instead thought harder about the next 5 years when I was 22.

But yes, I hadn't thought hard. And so, I rightfully reap the fruits of my impulsiveness.

Sometimes I still lament that God is unfair. For giving me such an unfavourable situation to clear up.

But well, maybe God didn't intend for there to be that mess. Maybe it is because I had chosen for the mess to unfold.

Really, life is all about choices. The Matrix is right.

It is just that many a times, we can't really see what the choices will escalate into.

We always think it is just an innocent decision. Only to realize that it is but a naive thought we try to conveniently console ourselves with.

...

And worry not. I may be complaining the hell out in this entry, but I am still generally happy.

I genuinely am.

Let's just say, all I really hope is for myself to have that open a heart to accept what God has in store for me, whatever it may be.

And that no matter what happens, I will never stray from His word.

It is not easy I know. But like I said before,

Life is meant to be hard.

It was, it is, and it always will be.

But we were meant to rise above it.

We were always meant to not stay defeated.