Hiatus again perhaps?

My head is in a mess. I don't know why. Maybe it's coz I was in Hanoi for too long, I got used to not having to think about anything besides what to eat and where to go. Now that I'm back, the air feels stagnant. Stale. It's back to procrastination.

I have to think of work to do. Money to earn. Right now I've got no cash flowing in. This gives me a headache. Goddammit I wish I'm still on holiday.

Presidential speechalist

The US president is one of the chickens’ favourite topics in Chickenmafia. Now, I don’t know much about him or his constant unavoidable bloopers but you just got to watch this.

I was almost fooled by it. That blonde guy first appeared so professional he almost got me. Thank god I didn’t go running to joyfulchicken, “It’s a conspiracy! It’s all an act!” Heh. Funny video.

The story of Shit

After food, we poop. So here, I present to you, the pooping story.

Who here cannot poop in a loo other than the one at home? I used to be like that. Once I went to another state to visit my relative for 2 weeks and I had to force it out by sitting in the toilet for 1 hour. And I think I only did that once. Imagine. I did not poop for more than a week. Makes me wonder where all the poop went. But the moment I came back home, my bowel started screaming for the toilet. Amazing isn’t it?

Now my bowel has found another place to call home; the other place I work in (I work in two places), the one with no cockroach trap. I’ve been going there for maybe 6-7 times and I’ve already pooped there twice, and had to hold it in for more than twice, including today. I didn’t want to go because the loo isn’t exactly in a favourable condition. The water from the pipe leaks and I don’t want to come out with soggy shoes. And today, about 3 hours before work ends, Mr. Shit was already screaming let-me-out. I didn’t want to oblige so Mr. Shit called on Mr. Air. I had to hold in Mr. Air too, but he was more persistent. I failed a few times and Mr. Air and co. made their way out and mingled with Mr. Air-We-Breathe. I sure hope my colleague didn’t smell anything funny.

So, who here has Mr. Shit that calls on Mr. Air whenever he wants attention?

Although pooping at home comes naturally, it wasn’t always so. There was this one time when I was in the toilet for 1 hour with Mr. Fat Shit stuck in between reality and fantasy. He was one fickle poop. I don’t ever want that again. The elasticity can only last so long. Ugh. Have I made you happy, joyfulchicken?

At least I now know I can shit elsewhere. Then, who here can shit in places other than at home, but their Mr. Shit is dehydrated? Me!

Home is still the best.

Impasse Part II

Continued from Impasse Part 1:

The next morning, we went back to the school and I was officially free. You see, this scholarship has a rule. Once you take it, you must carry on with it, or pay for the entire course fee whether you sat for the entire thing or not. I would have to pay hundreds of thousands. It was a risk I could never take.

So I went back to Form 6, had a great time there – it was one of my best schooling years – and I got out with straight As again. Before that all I had in mind was, get your As, think about the rest later. I got the As I wanted but I still haven’t found my way. I was again, back to where I started. The same thing happened, after some serious talks with my dad, my first choice was again pharmacy. But this time I wasn’t applying for a scholarship. It was just an application to the public uni. I didn’t want to feel like I’m bonded to something. I had engineering as my second choice, although I didn’t feel anything for it as well. My love, that time, was archaeology. But it was something I couldn’t and was not able to take up, for reasons I shall not say here. I had also applied for engineering in NUS (I was a physics student, therefore don’t qualify to apply for pharmacy in Singapore). I got my first choice in NUS and was just waiting for the result of my application to the public uni. That night came, and you guessed right, I got pharmacy. Again. People were congratulating me and everyone was happy, except myself. Of course, this time being 19, I was mature enough to think of others and to take responsibility in assuring I have a good future ahead of me, a good future as defined by the norm. So I took it. A friend said I was meant to do it. It was my fate. Maybe.

Right now I’m two years into the course, and no I don’t have happy stories to tell you. I don’t exactly have sad ones either. I’m just drifting around in my so-called ‘life’. I go by semester after semester, attending classes and day dreaming in it, studying for exams and taking it, and plan great things to do for my holidays only to end up wasting it. And right now I feel like shit. This is what holidays do to you. It’s the time when you sit down and start to reflect on your life. So how far have I gone? Hardly anywhere. I was supposed to do great things this holiday. I was supposed to gain a few skills, learn new things, and surprise somebody about how good I am at doing that something. But I’m still the same old drifter. I’ve gone nowhere.

Now don’t you guys come telling me to be optimistic or stuff like, “go out and do whatever you wanted to do right now!” You and I both know that it’s easier said than done. I would not be sitting here typing this if I had ‘gone out and do whatever I wanted to do’. So I really don’t need to hear that.

The thing going around in my head now is, “How will I be years from now? Will I still drift about? Will I have found my inner self, the Me that I wasn’t sure if I had lost or never knew before? Will I finally be happy, be in peace?” I shudder when I think of it.

Impasse Part I

I have a feeling this is going to be a long one and probably something I may not want to publish at the end. But if I do publish it, – well, if you’re reading this, it means I’ve published it, duh – you don’t have to go through with the whole thing. It’s just me, my life, my shit, some serious stuff that could bore you to death, etc, well you get the idea.

I don’t know if you know this, but I’ve been feeling like shit for the past few days, except for yesterday (mainly because I was working and laughing away with my colleagues to realize I feel like shit). You might ask, “What does shit feel like?”, “How does it feel to feel like shit?”, “Define shit.”, or whatever if you’re trying to be funny, but I only have one answer for you. Similes don’t necessarily make sense. There’s one ‘as stupid as a sloth’. Sloths are stupid? I thought they’re just plain lazy. But toads, and lobsters, and pigs are lazy though, simile wise. What’s so lazy about them? They certainly don’t look it. I know people usually go “You’re as lazy as a pig!” but in my humble opinion, they’re always busy eating, and making sure they’re dirty enough for the smelliest pig award. That’s nowhere close to lazy. Koalas could qualify though. And then there’s the ‘as fabulous as Aladdin’s lamp’ one. Whoever came up with that!? Can’t you draw better analogies? If you can say Aladdin’s lamp, I sure can say Doraemon. As fabulous as Doraemon. One word settles it all. And Doraemon doesn’t limit your wishes to only three. At this very moment you might be contemplating starting a debate with me on how the Aladdin’s lamp is supposedly fabulous or whatever, I say go ahead! I don’t mind reading comments and spewing nonsense at them, anything, as long as it doesn’t make me feel like shit. Oh yeah. That was the topic today. What was I thinking, straying off to similes?

So yeah, I feel like shit. The day when I was suddenly overwhelmed by the blues, I was sitting in front of the computer. Nothing that was there for me to do seemed right. So I thought perhaps if I go read a book or something, just get away from the PC, I might feel better. Pooh. That didn’t help alright. It just made me think. Books make you think. You open it and instead of reading the pages, you start to read your own mind. I started asking myself, “Why do I feel like shit?” as much as the answer would hurt, it was reality. My life, literally, has reached a standstill. It has completely stopped. In fact when I come to think of it, it’s been like that for years. It’s been like that since I entered university.

In everybody’s life, there comes a point when a decision must be made. A road must be taken. I got a taste of that when I was 17. Back when I was in upper secondary (16&17) I was usually somewhere at the top of the class. I even scored straight A1s for the public exam. Now before you say I’m puffing myself up, I have to say this is something rather the opposite. Me being able to say this here is implying that I’ve gone over that phase. The phase where you would rather stay quite about things you’ve achieved for fear of losing them. Yes, I’m quite superstitious when it comes to this. I’d tell my proud parents not to spread the news. I’m not good with praises anyway. By saying I’ve gone pass that phase doesn’t mean I’ve turned into a stiff-necked bitch or that I don’t believe in this idea anymore, I still do, but it’s just that I’m now ready to tell the world the what little achievements (and failures) I had in my pocket.

Having 9 A1s in your grip is nothing these days compared to back then. People are scoring 17 A1s now, goodness gracious! Which makes me doubt the whole of our present education system. I doubted the education system of my time too. There was no way I could’ve gotten straight As! It was just too bizarre. I don’t regard myself as an intelligent person, if you might ask. And I especially hated it when people come up to you and start telling you how smart you are, in a fake way. Well, it felt fake to me. I got that a lot. I’m not smart. Please don’t say I am.

Right, I was saying I reached a point in life where I had to make a decision. I was 17. I had to choose the road which I was about to take. My dad had this dream of me being a doctor but I hated it. I hated the fact that just because you’ve got the As you’ve got to be a doctor. People are going into medicine for all the wrong reasons! I fought back when he tried to persuade me to take up medicine. We later reached a compromise whereby I would take up pharmacy instead. Didn’t really liked the idea but I applied for a scholarship anyway, my first choice being pharmacy and my second being science (there were very limited choices) hoping that I could study astronomy or something. Passed the first stage, got to the interview stage, which was the last stage. I prayed everyday after that, that I would get my second choice. But I got my first. Everyone was happy for me, except me.

I’m not ashamed to tell you this; I cried myself to sleep every night until the night before the orientation. Everyday I would have talks with my dad and he would encourage me to take it up. It’s your golden opportunity, he would say. You’ll get to study overseas and it’ll all be paid for! The orientation day came, and I reluctantly went. All the way I tried to hold back my tears. It was a really difficult time for me. I could not accept my perception of how a large part of my life was going to be like. I went through the orientation up till evening when I told myself I couldn’t take it anymore. I called my dad up and told him I’m pulling out. He and my uncle rushed to me and a senior student advised me, telling me just how lucky I was to be there. My definition of lucky was not quite the same. That night I left that place, crying all the way back to my uncle’s place because I could feel everybody’s sorrow on my shoulders. I knew my dad was heartbroken. I’m really sorry you had to go through that, dad.

While we were stuck in the traffic jam, typical of cities, I called up my friend who was two years older. He already had a taste of uni life and clearly knew more about scholarships and what not, than I am. I had to call him because I needed to know if I went back home and continued with Form 6, would I still qualify for the scholarship after that. He said yes. He said that if I got straight As in Form 6, the world would be mine. I would be the king. He really said that, I’m not exaggerating. And what he said was what I delivered to my dad as a form of relief for him. I had to make sure that he didn’t have to worry for me. Letting him know that I can have chances like this again was to take the load off his mind and to buy myself time. I told myself that night. After I finish my 1 ½ years of Form 6, I will know which road is it that I want. I must know. That night was full of lies I told myself. That night, I felt emancipated. I felt all the heavy burdens I had to carry suddenly lifted. I tell you, if it wasn’t for gravity, I could be flying higher than anybody in the world. That night onwards, I was free. I was free for another 1 ½ years.