Human beings were born with the reflex of self-defence. It is not something which we learn but something which is innate.. it's our human nature. It manifests itself in almost everything we do in our lives, not just physically but also when faced with blame or guilt.
We all see ourselves as perfect, no matter how much we tell others that we don't believe so. Whenver we look in the mirror, we see the most beautiful being on earth. On days that we don't think so, we think that it is only for that day - perhaps because of a new pimple - which will pass and beauty will come back to the beholder again. Or sometimes our human nature takes a simpler approach just look over the pimples, past the wrinkles and beyond the Einstein-looking hair.
Though this is a very materialistic example of our pathetic human nature, there is a much deeper side to it as well and I am beginning to think that this is the reason why life gets so complicated, even when it is not.
There are thousands of situations that we come across in our daily lives where we are at fault for something but simply refuse to admit it. Admitting fault and accepting blame is not just an external expression, which can be faked easily. When I was in Secondary School and went to school with a ear-ring dangling from my lobe and got screwed for it, I accepted the punishment, and recognized that it was my fault. But what no one knew was that deep inside my heart I simply could not understand why ear-rings were not allowed. And to be very frank, 9 years on, I still carry that frustration with me.
And the frustration builds up as the number of situations we encounter increase. A cheating girlfriend is objectively in the wrong, but would she really accept that it was her fault? Or would she be thinking in her heart that it was the lack of attention from her boyfriend that forced her to cheat?
As my life keeps rolling forward with me learning more about the real world, I begin to wonder if life can get simpler from here? At every stage in my life I expected things to get more complicated but easier to deal with - "When I'm grown up I'll know how to deal better"; "When I'm grown up, I'll learn to take responsibility for my actions"; "When Ii gain more experience, I will handle situations better". But has that really been the case? That's what confuses me.
In short, I am very confused right now. I just turned 23, just started working half a year ago, and am just beginning to learn that growing up really does suck. Never mind the fact that I can't live my life selfishly anymore, and never mind the fact that one-night-stands and wild parties are not part of my experiences and will never be coz I've got such a great girlfriend whom I want to marry.
What worries me is how much human nature can take, if human nature doesn't give.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Friday, February 11, 2011
The Mediocrity Thing Again
Things may not have always gone my way all the time - and I'll be thankful that for the most part, I have been able to shrug those non-successes as things that I never really wanted or never really had an interest in. So the internal response has always been "what the hell; who gives a fuck ??"
But things just really haven't been going my way recently and I don't know how long I can force myself to believe that I am above my greatesst fear - mediocrity.
Someone once told me that mediocrity is like a speck of dirt on a white shirt - you can wash it away but you will never be able to get rid of the mark that it leaves, no matter how faint it becomes. To me, mediocrity is a life full of envy and self pity... the kidn of life that I never imagined myself having.
The job which I chose for myself and entered with pride has turned 5 months of work without a single reward so far. The only thing that I have to be thankful for is that no one else entered the company with me to show me what he could do that I could not.
The people I used to jam with and the people I used to know at entry level were people I used to be on par with. Some have made popular TV, some are a known name in the pub circuit, some are models and classy escorts (the clean kind) while I just sit here and lament about how my situation is.
Have I not put in enough effort? Do I not want what I want bad enough?
I am sick and I am tired... very tired of hearing people say that I have the potential to do this and the potential become that.....
I've been thanking life for the potentials that she's given me.
Now I'm sick of those potentials stagnating and remaining what they are - potentials.
But things just really haven't been going my way recently and I don't know how long I can force myself to believe that I am above my greatesst fear - mediocrity.
Someone once told me that mediocrity is like a speck of dirt on a white shirt - you can wash it away but you will never be able to get rid of the mark that it leaves, no matter how faint it becomes. To me, mediocrity is a life full of envy and self pity... the kidn of life that I never imagined myself having.
The job which I chose for myself and entered with pride has turned 5 months of work without a single reward so far. The only thing that I have to be thankful for is that no one else entered the company with me to show me what he could do that I could not.
The people I used to jam with and the people I used to know at entry level were people I used to be on par with. Some have made popular TV, some are a known name in the pub circuit, some are models and classy escorts (the clean kind) while I just sit here and lament about how my situation is.
Have I not put in enough effort? Do I not want what I want bad enough?
I am sick and I am tired... very tired of hearing people say that I have the potential to do this and the potential become that.....
I've been thanking life for the potentials that she's given me.
Now I'm sick of those potentials stagnating and remaining what they are - potentials.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
I Lost
For many years, Christmas has been a monotonous period of gift-giving and fantasizing. In the season of Christmas, I usually fully imerse myself in fantasies that will forever remain what they are.
In a stupor of self indulgence, I picture being awoken by the sound of snow falling on my window; the smell of coldness in the air and dry wind blowing in my face; searching through my cupboard to find the most perfect suit coupled with a long overcoat to vest myself in; the lights at Orchard Road flickering romantically, emulating a cosy place by the fire. The list goes on and on.
But the one fantasy that has always held the highest place in my huge fantasy world is the one where Christmas Eve is spent at Midnight Mass with a lover by my side - just her and me.
For on this night, my beautiful lover looks so pretty I could mistake her for an angel; she smells so sweet I could mistake her for an entire garden of lilies of the valley. When the bells strike twelve to signal the coming of Jesus Christ, I feel engulfed by the knowledge that I have been blessed - blessed with the gift of Jesus the babe, Jesus the saviour, Jesus the companion.
For in this moment, heaven is a place on earth and my lover can do or say no wrong. And in her eyes, I am all that she has ever been waiting for.
That's the perfect fantasy.
The reality is - at some point in my life I subconsciously decided that such a fantasy is impossible. That love doesn't exist and all that does is a contract of companionship - an effort made by two parties who have a liking for each other to offer advice and a retreat from the outside world.
This Christmas, the Singapore sky didn't decide to wake me up by sprinkling snow on my window. Cool air did blow but it was stale and humid and accompanied by gusts of heat from the engines of the countless vehicles around. I wore a suit that was far from perfect and a shirt that was older than this laptop on which I type. An overcoat? Overkill more like it.
But the saddest part of all is that this Christmas, I was the closest to fulfilling what is probably the biggest fantasy of my life. I didn't hold her in my arms; I chose to pay attention to the peripherals than to her; I chose to be engulfed not by her demure and angelic presence but by the things that I could have an opinion about.
I lost my temper on Christmas day.
I lost my chance at a lifelong fantasy on Christmas day.
I lost it.
And the chilling thing about it is that on top of all that I lost this Christmas...
I could have lost a lot more.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
2009
In the blink of an eye, one full year has passed. My last post was written and published days before I handed in my pink IC and changed it for a green one. One that reminds me of my 'Military Personnel' status everytime I enter a club; everytime I play Left4Dead; everytime I open my wallet to explore its contents out of boredom. Surprisingly, while I find the two words cool, I feel a lot different when the 'personnel' it refers to is myself.
But this post is not about National Service. Like any other male person in Singapore, I can be a tad too whiny about still being in service and I can see myself boasting and gloating the very minute I ORD. All the more, this post is a summary of my year and the many changes that have taken place.
In February, I passed out from SISPEC and was posted to the Air Force. I rejoiced as my Infantry days were over. Being posted to the Air Force would allow me to learn some new and refreshing things, not just a bunch of ambush weapons and advanced techniques of cover and concealment, though I found all of the above quite fun. However, this newfound excitement was not to be longlived as I realised that my job in the Air Force was basically to ensure the security of the Base and to respond to any threats or intrusions. Sure, slightly different from what I've learnt so far, but utterly dull and boring as each day passed.
At the end of the year, all I can say about 2009 is that I've been blessed with the opportunity to have run into so many different situations that made me question why I even exist in this world. I now know how it feels to be doing a job you really don't want to be doing - that you're not even a little bit good at. I know how it feels to have everyone hate you. I know how it feels like to countdown the days to your girlfriend going away for studies. I know how it feels to not know what on earth to do with your life. I know how it feels to think that you know what you want to do with your life only to find out that you don't have the money to do it. I know how it feels like to have people around you who think like yourself. I know how it feels like to have people around you who think the exact opposite. I know how taking a train to Gemas from Singapura feels.
But most importantly, I know how it feels to have 9 more months to go in the military so that I can just move on with my life - whatever kind of life that may turn out to be.
But this post is not about National Service. Like any other male person in Singapore, I can be a tad too whiny about still being in service and I can see myself boasting and gloating the very minute I ORD. All the more, this post is a summary of my year and the many changes that have taken place.
In February, I passed out from SISPEC and was posted to the Air Force. I rejoiced as my Infantry days were over. Being posted to the Air Force would allow me to learn some new and refreshing things, not just a bunch of ambush weapons and advanced techniques of cover and concealment, though I found all of the above quite fun. However, this newfound excitement was not to be longlived as I realised that my job in the Air Force was basically to ensure the security of the Base and to respond to any threats or intrusions. Sure, slightly different from what I've learnt so far, but utterly dull and boring as each day passed.
At the end of the year, all I can say about 2009 is that I've been blessed with the opportunity to have run into so many different situations that made me question why I even exist in this world. I now know how it feels to be doing a job you really don't want to be doing - that you're not even a little bit good at. I know how it feels to have everyone hate you. I know how it feels like to countdown the days to your girlfriend going away for studies. I know how it feels to not know what on earth to do with your life. I know how it feels to think that you know what you want to do with your life only to find out that you don't have the money to do it. I know how it feels like to have people around you who think like yourself. I know how it feels like to have people around you who think the exact opposite. I know how taking a train to Gemas from Singapura feels.
But most importantly, I know how it feels to have 9 more months to go in the military so that I can just move on with my life - whatever kind of life that may turn out to be.
Friday, October 3, 2008
That Glimmer Of Hope
A couple of weeks back I met up with Leon and some of his colleuges at Timbre for drinks. Leon told me that they will be wherever Fatt and Pamela play as often as they can because they really like to listen to 'their music'. I won't go into the whole cover-original issue which all musicians face at one point or another - especially in Singapore, but on a finer point that can actually be quite soothing to the musician's soul.
After drinking myself to my last dollar and managing to get a ride back in one of Leon's collegue's car, I found myself squeezing in the back seat with another of Leon's collegues, Pamela and Fatt. It wasn't the first time that I'd shared a ride back with musicians but for the first time it actually dawned on me: why was this paying customer (and Timbre's not the cheapest place around) actually willing to send the musicians back home even though their destinations were not what one would call 'on the way'. Just to paint a clearer picture, it was past 2 in the morning on a working day, everyone had a few beers too many and there was the office at which we had to show our faces at at 8.30 the next morning. And yet nothing else ran through my mind other than the question.... why???
It was only yesterday when I was walking around with (surprise, surprise) my mum at Orchard Road that I realised why some people actually take the trouble to get to know pub musicians, buy drinks for them, remember their birthdays and yes, send them home after work. After the musicians' work that is. It is because pub musicians and singers are not just an analog version of a CD player nor are they live versions of people's favourite songs; they sit up there on stage not to prostitute themselves by singing songs that weren't written by themselves but to belt out songs that their audiences love to hear - songs that audiences can relate to because they are familiar and because they have been picked out by the latter as 'relevant'.
Danny Loong once told an aspiring 16 year old boy - and these were his exact words, "People are depressed. Every single one of them out in the audience sipping on that beer, whiskey or coke has got problems in their lives. We're here to tell them, 'Hey, life doesn't suck!'. We're here to let them know that they're not alone."
I don't think there could be a more accurate description of the role a musician plays. Just as jesters used satire and witty humour to give rulers their much needed wake up call to reality, pub singers and musicians deliver funky songs that cheer us city-dwellers up as well as melacholic songs that let us know that we're not alone in whatever sorrows we may have.
And in those few short sets that they play... there is always a glimmer of hope.
After drinking myself to my last dollar and managing to get a ride back in one of Leon's collegue's car, I found myself squeezing in the back seat with another of Leon's collegues, Pamela and Fatt. It wasn't the first time that I'd shared a ride back with musicians but for the first time it actually dawned on me: why was this paying customer (and Timbre's not the cheapest place around) actually willing to send the musicians back home even though their destinations were not what one would call 'on the way'. Just to paint a clearer picture, it was past 2 in the morning on a working day, everyone had a few beers too many and there was the office at which we had to show our faces at at 8.30 the next morning. And yet nothing else ran through my mind other than the question.... why???
It was only yesterday when I was walking around with (surprise, surprise) my mum at Orchard Road that I realised why some people actually take the trouble to get to know pub musicians, buy drinks for them, remember their birthdays and yes, send them home after work. After the musicians' work that is. It is because pub musicians and singers are not just an analog version of a CD player nor are they live versions of people's favourite songs; they sit up there on stage not to prostitute themselves by singing songs that weren't written by themselves but to belt out songs that their audiences love to hear - songs that audiences can relate to because they are familiar and because they have been picked out by the latter as 'relevant'.
Danny Loong once told an aspiring 16 year old boy - and these were his exact words, "People are depressed. Every single one of them out in the audience sipping on that beer, whiskey or coke has got problems in their lives. We're here to tell them, 'Hey, life doesn't suck!'. We're here to let them know that they're not alone."
I don't think there could be a more accurate description of the role a musician plays. Just as jesters used satire and witty humour to give rulers their much needed wake up call to reality, pub singers and musicians deliver funky songs that cheer us city-dwellers up as well as melacholic songs that let us know that we're not alone in whatever sorrows we may have.
And in those few short sets that they play... there is always a glimmer of hope.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Rootless Tree
What i want from you is empty your head
They say be true, don't stain your bed
We do what we need to be free and it leans on me
Like a rootless tree
What i want from us is learn to let go
We fake a fuss and fracture the times
We go blindwhen we've needed to see
And it leans on me like a rootless...
So fuck you, fuck you, fuck you and all we've been through
I said leave it, leave it, leave it
It's nothing to you and if you hate me, hate me, hate me
Then hate me so good that you can let me out
Let me out of this hell when you're around
Let me out let me out, let me out of this hell when you're around
Let me out, let me out..
What i want from this is learn to let go
No not of you, of all that's been told
Killers reinvent and believe
And this leans on melike a rootless...
So fuck you, fuck you, fuck you and all we've been through
I said leave it, leave it, leave it, it's nothing to you
And if you hate me, hate me , hate me,
Then hate me so good that you can let me out , let me out, let me out
Let me out of this hell when you're around
Let me out...
And fuck you, fuck you, i love you and all we've been through
I said leave it it's nothing to you and if you hate me
Then hate me so good that you can let me out let me out...
It's hell when you're around
-Damien Rice
They say be true, don't stain your bed
We do what we need to be free and it leans on me
Like a rootless tree
What i want from us is learn to let go
We fake a fuss and fracture the times
We go blindwhen we've needed to see
And it leans on me like a rootless...
So fuck you, fuck you, fuck you and all we've been through
I said leave it, leave it, leave it
It's nothing to you and if you hate me, hate me, hate me
Then hate me so good that you can let me out
Let me out of this hell when you're around
Let me out let me out, let me out of this hell when you're around
Let me out, let me out..
What i want from this is learn to let go
No not of you, of all that's been told
Killers reinvent and believe
And this leans on melike a rootless...
So fuck you, fuck you, fuck you and all we've been through
I said leave it, leave it, leave it, it's nothing to you
And if you hate me, hate me , hate me,
Then hate me so good that you can let me out , let me out, let me out
Let me out of this hell when you're around
Let me out...
And fuck you, fuck you, i love you and all we've been through
I said leave it it's nothing to you and if you hate me
Then hate me so good that you can let me out let me out...
It's hell when you're around
-Damien Rice
Monday, September 1, 2008
Hurricane
Lying awake thinking of ways back then
How it would be different
The story you told was never the one
I wrote for me; it isn't the same
Will I be the same
You fell from grace into my arms
Because of you I stayed around
I didn't count on things to go my way again
But were those just games
I can't explain the changes in your eyes
You're just my hurricane
Promises made faded away in time
Now it is so different
You never returned
Vanished from here
Without a trace
Was it in vain
Could I be the same
There was a memory of a place
It took me in on one embrace
I never thought the sun would shine again
Now are those just games
I can't explain the changes in your eyes
You're just my hurricane
When you said we were through
Was it me, was it you
Now I can't face the truth
This is me, it's not you
There's nothing wrong with us
It's just me I can't trust
So why'd you wanna stay today?
Lying awake thinking of ways back then
now it is so different
You fell from grace into my arms
Because of you I stayed around
I didn't count on things to go my way again
Now were those just games
I can't explain the changes in your eyes
You're just my hurricane
My only hurricane
-Jack & Rai
How it would be different
The story you told was never the one
I wrote for me; it isn't the same
Will I be the same
You fell from grace into my arms
Because of you I stayed around
I didn't count on things to go my way again
But were those just games
I can't explain the changes in your eyes
You're just my hurricane
Promises made faded away in time
Now it is so different
You never returned
Vanished from here
Without a trace
Was it in vain
Could I be the same
There was a memory of a place
It took me in on one embrace
I never thought the sun would shine again
Now are those just games
I can't explain the changes in your eyes
You're just my hurricane
When you said we were through
Was it me, was it you
Now I can't face the truth
This is me, it's not you
There's nothing wrong with us
It's just me I can't trust
So why'd you wanna stay today?
Lying awake thinking of ways back then
now it is so different
You fell from grace into my arms
Because of you I stayed around
I didn't count on things to go my way again
Now were those just games
I can't explain the changes in your eyes
You're just my hurricane
My only hurricane
-Jack & Rai
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