Rapid change can't be slower

Hola, I can't believe this is still alive. A constant reminder that this blog serves the purpose of self help for catharsis. 

It's the first of June. The beginning to the end to the first half of 2013. And the single word that can encompass the progression is change. Too commonly said, the change in my life is insane. Like, cray cray. I'm surprised I'm holding myself together adapting to it. What do I mean

1. Let's take the most textbook analysis of any teenager's life and say that moving houses would be much of a change. Not from a house to another, but to a freaking condominium. Entering a whole different philosophy of communal living and mutual distance. The process isn't any easier. Packing. Reminiscing. Deciding what kind of room that would accommodate my present self, future self and absent self. Knowing by a certain date, your locus of living will change. Forever. And there's no reverse. And yet I still have to deal with the excitement of fresh people and the amazing facilities. Balance.

2. The very obvious shift of social circle. I can't begin to describe how different it is now. From literally dismantling the shannon relationship, the fast growing and deepening debate circle, the distancing outer circle of what are known now as clubbers, the concentration of emotions in sera and anthony among just a few others.. 

It's disturbing. To know that it's out of your capacity to reconnect certain strings. It's even more disturbing to know that this shift was in effect by mere physical absence. What is the litmus test to a good relationship? 

As of 2AM on the 2nd of June, my heart feels burdened with coming at peace with my apathy towards enjoying this shift of social circles.. for good reason. 

3. Coming to terms with an expanding Jason's list. This means two things.

i) Redrawing the demarkations of how interaction would work with people that know. Not that much of a difference. The harder one being

ii) Figuring out how the hell do I sustain a friendship with somebody that doesn't. 

It gets more opaque every time I talk to someone, conscious that my very being is a lie. That we came to terms on deception that was of my fault. The fact that I do not trust you enough to give you a key that unlocks the honesty within me. And I question myself why I made that decision not to trust. That process is unappetising.

 The more people I tell, the more I differentiate my kind of connections I have with people. The change is to learn to integrate (lol add maths, which is equally as worrying)

4. Or more specifically to number 3.. how the fuck do I talk to guys that know. Like, how. What. What's the line between appropriate and initiating homophobia. 

5. The realisation that I know what I want and still carrying stuff I don't want. And the subsequent anger. 

I want to debate. I want more intellectual discourse. I want depth. All these I know.

Yet I'm still burdened with this fucked up shallow summit I initiated out of of last resortness and now it's just killing me at the back of my head!

The change is learning to adapt to things I really don't want. Previously, everything was a breeze cause I was genuinely interested in a plethora of items. It's different.

6. View of humanity. (siaaaaaaaaa) 

To be continued

When shit hits the ceiling.

I never got that saying. Although Urban Dictionary would like to say it's shit hitting the fan, it still doesn't make sense. 

SIGH SIGH SIGH.

Ok rant rant rant rant.

Shit is really hitting the ceiling now. Underperforming everywhere. HOW. 

So much expectations. FAILURE IS VERY MUCH EMINENT. 

If not for failure, then EXTREME EMOTIONAL UNREST. 

I can't believe I picked the wrong motion for cq teo quarters. 

I can't believe I fucked up my BM lisan. 

I can't believe I'm further behind on my homework than I was in Form 4. 

I can't believe how apathetic I am about this stupid US summit that was chucked to my shoulders. 

I can't believe although we're training our standard still sucks shit compared to schools that have been doing less.

I can't believe I'm so lazy to go look for sponsors for ASDC although it might be the biggest thing.

I can't believe I haven't been exercising and I'm such a fat fuck now. 

I can't believe the Wira team gg-ed cause of me again. 

I can't believe how all this anger is rebuilding inside of me.

I can't believe I'm not in Five Stones already.

I can't believe I'm changing pathways cause the world dictates that I fucking do!!!

I can't believe I have no time to spend with friends AGHHH and watch a movie and just chill.

I can't believe how every guy is somehow just a devout Christian. 

I can't believe life feels so different.

And all these, I put in on myself. It's all my doing. Because I believe, it's a self fulfilling prophecy. 

No one else to blame.

It's hard to see the light when there's so much darkness. Sure, I might be doing amazing things, like successfully organising interclass and wira.. or doing ok for exams.. but those are like standards. Not achievements. I need to start hitting the high notes. Not just maintaining. 

Fuckkkkkkk this is hard. 

NO ONE'S THERE FOR EVERYTHING. Why not. why notttt ughhh fate you're such a bitch.

Just someone. SOMEONE. Is that so hard god. 

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and that's efficient stress release.

That stupid ceiling.

It's kind of counterproductive sometimes, those Facebook posts about suicide. That very constant reminder is the same thing that opens the avenue. That provides the very paradigm that exit is possible. It is virtually impossible to mitigate suicidal thoughts, and it's just stupid to think that by saying don't do it, things will stop.

The fact is this.

It will never stop.

"It's just another night in the room. Adele is playing through the partially retarded speakers that's been really annoying, constantly acting up. Lying on the bed, looking up to the ceiling. The fluorescent light blinds parts of vision as thoughts of what could be done passed by.

Nothing, nothing could be done. A deadlock has arrived. Just like how the American jury functions, no one can come to an agreement. Not you, Brain. Not you, Guts. Neither you, Emotions. Staring up at the ceiling crease, life looks a lot like that. Narrow, cramped, covered with shadows from the fluorescent light. Where does the shadow end?

Or more importantly, why are some shadows bigger than others? All these creases are the same, but the size of the shadows vary. Pity that shortest shadow, pray it finds a way to be longer one day. Even worse, that crease which is halved by the wall. It's still a crease, isn't it? That's odd, there should be a shadow by laws of science.

BUT, it doesn't. The light, the creases are all fixed. There are two possible ways to fix this horrible conundrum :

1) Shift that stupid fluorescent light.

But that's also pretty stupid. We can never move the Sun.

2) Get a contractor to knock down the wall and somehow make everything equal.

But nah, that's too expensive. Probably would cause too much noise, neighbours wouldn't like it, would they? Better to stick with different sizes of shadows. PROBABLY isn't that big of a deal, anyway, eh.

...Hah, laughing. How can staring at the ceiling cause such thoughts? But there it is anyway, staring every single night. Bed time, in the morning. Right in the eyes.

And one day, resistance is futile. Jumping won't do any good, too short. But the bed is climbed on anyway, still doesn't work. The ceiling just can't be reached. Frustration wallows in the stomach. It seeps to the Heart, where it hurts the most. Like cancer cells, it spreads. Slowly but surely, it finally reaches the Brain. And soon, all rationale is lost.

The deed is done. Letters don't matter. What did anyone else do about that sad crease? A few options could be taken. But the obvious prevails. A rope is hanged from the ceiling fan, and feet slowly get up. It feels the cold skin of the neck. Hey, maybe the weight would be enough to pull the whole ceiling down!

Trying to reconcile with thyself, good effort though. No, cause this is self interest. The Great Perhaps. Just maybe, a new life with a clean slate of memories will be given. Anything but this shit. 

Sure, family, friends suffer as well. But they'll move on. They didn't have the room with the stupid crease. But then, migrating to another room was an option. But abandoning the bed, the wardrobe, the desk?

All at once, the rope tightens, a natural human process has carried out.

A few seconds later, everything blacks out. Man, isn't this peaceful. Isn't this seri..

BAM. It's a dream.

'The fuck was that?"

And you continue. Walking. Existing. But never really living.

Pitstop.

Looking up to the sky, on the pool deck of Ameera with Times in my hands and wet shorts from a swim. Finally, unwinding after 5 grueling weeks. I wouldn't say it was the one of the greatest, but definitely one of the toughest. Isolated, challenged, minimal support. It's a phase I have to take in cause I'M the one that chose this path. 


Gosh, where am I? 


A month ago, I was preparing for Worlds selections, which I chose over mighty minds. I mean yeah, I got selected and all, which I'm throughly satisfied, but more of relieved. Imagine if I didn't get selected. What on earth would I be doing right now? Would I be bothered to hunt down for The Economist? Or maybe spending more time with friends.


Two months ago, was my last round as a team with Claudia and Manda at ASDC. It's really funny, how much has passed. The typical sentiments are shared - I'm horribly going to miss them. Along with Andrew and Jeremy. To think two months ago was the turbo boost for my skill level. To think, two months ago I didn't look fat wearing my threadless tees. 


Three months ago, I was in between attending birthday parties. Petty as it seems, I miss people. To think three months ago I had the time to go out on a school night and have the energy to continue the next day. Nooo, now I come home, crash till dinner and wake up. What a pathetic lifestyle. And who's to blame other than myself? I'm complacent, giving myself the excuse that I'm "exhausted" from debate.




I'm just a ball of misery. Where am I going? 


What if the US Youth Summit @ Jakarta clashes with Final selections?


What if I don't get into the team?


What if I DO get into the team?


How do I resume normal social life? ._.


But the worst thing is, what if I don't perform?


Here's the thing about prioritization - if your #1 fails, you got nothing to fall back on. Sure, I've yet to start orders for the 2nd batch of Dynamitez tee shirts that I'm being bugged for left right centre.. 


//
I can't even bother to look at you, knowing there is no hope in reconciliation. Thanks for being typical. Yes, you. 




//
How do I regain moral consciousness? Is there even a line I should draw?
What is reality.. if it is just a construct of one's own perception? Would reality then be determined by majority, or is it determined by the construct of one's self? 
Do I even have an identity, when EVEN my speaking style is based on copy cats and mimics? 




And yeah Jason, just betray your body like that. Eat whatever you like, there's no need for exercise anymore. 




//
I wonder, how would it be like. To be back with seaylp. The inner me is looking forward to that most. Maybe cause there's a collective mutualism, where we're busy people and we're not expected to talk to each other constantly.




//
I am a lifeless, robot. With excessive comas and maybe an overreactive robot, that wins an Oscar here and there for being a drama queen.


..


Time, please click faster. I have no interest in staying here. 

I adjust my jaw, clear my throat, straighten my tie and unleash my tongue - but that obviously isn't good enough. Isn't it funny.. the one of the only things I was proud to have is probably the absence of stage fright. But no, apparently a room of 30 and a panel of 5 can break that.

A cloud over my head it has put. No, it's been here since January. Q1 2012 feels cloudy, shrouded of light and direction. My personality could very well be slippers being so flip-flop.

Structure, eloquence, clarity.

These days have been missing all 3 of them.

//

What did I take back from 2010? The fact that it was the year I rebelled, broke free of a shell I kept myself in, making 2011 amazing.

What shell can I break this year? Oh, the journey of self enlightenment.

//

I'm so sick, I need a break. It has been going on non-stop since pre-PMR. These 2 weeks to recuperate, heal and mend battle scars. Then, it happens again. The mindless de-connection from face time value with lifemates, scattered efforts drowned by the loud bangings of bureaucracy.. what is left?

An unfit physical body, tainted by the spite and aftermaths of social pressure, marred with the dents of expectations. But with this lies a chance of recovery, for a better future, for a brighter opportunity.

//

What drives me now?

The ability to win an argument? For what temporary pleasure it brings along with the masks that enshrines speakers of the house.

Is it creating a magnificent page for a magazine, that people flip, under appreciates and finally fades away?

Maybe a family, strong and firm.. but for how long until I go back to the weekly turgid struts?

The pursuit of knowledge, far and wide with no limits? I don't even want to imagine.

Gee, the ever changing needs of man. Unstable, nomad.

I'm seeking for now. My backyard, town center, across the ocean, east or west.. I hunger for adventures beyond the sea. But who am I to determine where I go?

//

I'm trying my best to cope. I failed my resolution this year of putting friends as priority #1. For a whole 4 day stretch I failed, blinded by business and things that didn't really count in the end.

Maybe I'm just over thinking, emo-ing this out while I should be sleeping. Yeap, just maybe.

Let there be pictures!

My CNY was better than yours.