Friday, June 16, 2006

Thin Ice

Yet another thought that pops up in my head once in a while appeared while I was idling in front of the computer which prompted me to write about. I think during my J2 year I'm quite sure it was Edwin who told me that it's important to learn how to ice skate. His thought process was that when deciding where to go for group outings like OG outings, you should try and convince the group to go to the ice skating rink in jurong or kallang. There, if you're competent in ice skating, the girls who are greenhorns at the activity will naturally gravitate towards you as their pillar of support and also you can get to teach them how to ice skate.
(I'm not sure if you really said it ed, but if not then it must have been some other guy then.)
Can't really comment on that, as in the end I only managed to do ice skating last year in canada and landed on my butt far too many times that a 10 year old caucasian girl had to offer me the walker, much to my embarrassment.
Still, I guess you can draw some parrallels between ice skating to a relationship. As a guy, chances are you have to be that pillar of strength, the person who will hold her as the two of you negotiate the slippery surfaces.
But more importantly, is that she trusts you enough to go ice skating for you, as she is safe in the knowledge, misguided or not, that if she were to fall, you'll be there to stop her from hitting the ground.

Monday, June 12, 2006

Night

She sat beside him in the passenger's seat, trying to catch her breath as he drove the car away from the park. She tried to grab a piece of tissue paper from the tissue box on the dashboard in front of her, but her trembling fingers betrayed her; the box instead fell near the gear stick. Without as much as a sideways glance, he picked up the box and placed it back on the dashboard, removed a piece of tissue paper and passed it to her wordlessly, never once taking his eyes off the road. She took the paper from him and at the same time looked at him. His face was a picture of intense concentration, as though he thought that any moment now an obstruction was going to block his way. He seemed as though he hasn't even registered her presence beside him.
Perhaps he was angry. He had every right to be angry. Yet what exuded from him was not rage, yet she felt it was a form of calmness, like a deep lake with an unruffled surface, the blue water concealing a hidden volcano of emotions.
However, she also felt sadness and concern from his being, but she could feel he was suppressing them. He may not have looked at her directly, but she could see him take a few peeks at her from the various mirrors in the car.
She suddenly felt self conscious. Her hair was tousled, her make up smudged by the excessive sweating due to her exertions. In a vain attempt to salvage her appearance, she tamed her hair with a rubber band to tie a ponytail, and removed the make up with the rest of the tissues left in the cardboard box.
She looked at him as the car moved along, the trees casting silhouettes thanks to the golden lights from the streetlamps. She suddenly felt very small. She had managed to get herself into such a mess, and now she had to call upon someone who had trusted her so much, but whom she betrayed to drag her out of this.
When she called him, she wondered if he would help at all. After all, her betrayal had hurt him deeply, and he still bore the scars of her decisions. Yet, he was here, coming to her aid in her time of need.
She could not take it anymore.
"Aren't you going to ask me why I asked you to pick me up in from that desolate place at such a late hour?"
Her words seem to echo in the car.
He said nothing at first. He didn't even change his facial expression. Then with a sudden jerk, the car screeched to a stop on the empty road. He changed to parking gear and leaned back on to his chair.
"If you wanted me to know, you would have told me by now."
He turned to face her.
"Do you?"
For only perhaps one second, their eyes met, but she swiftly averted her gaze downwards in shame. He sighed, changed gears and moved off again.
"Let's go home." He simply said.
The car sped off into the night.


Definately not one of my best works, but I sort of made it up as I wrote it. I was trying to write a short story based on the first 2 lines of dialogue. Not really classic material, but I hope people will like it.

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

The 5 stages of grief

This thought came to me when I watched the first episode of the season 2 of House, but I never got down to writing it on paper. But recently I have been constantly reminded about it due to my very big and irritating arrow.
Anyway, don't you think getting a new arrow is much like the 5 stages of grief? For the uninitiated, the 5 stages of grief is some pseudo psychology model as to how most people deal with grief, like in the cases of terminal illness or sudden death of loved ones. The 5 stages are as of below with an example, courtesy of wikipedia.

1. Denial and isolation: "This is not happening to me."
2. Anger: "How dare you do this to me?!" (either referring to a god, the late person, or themselves)
3. Bargaining: "Just let me live to see my son graduate."
4. Depression: "I can't bear to face going through this, putting my family through this."
5. Acceptance: "I'm ready, I don't want to struggle anymore."

Well to place it into the NSF receiving an arrow context...

1. Denial and isolation: "Wah lau eh, why I kena?"
2. Anger: "How can like that, always arrow me?! &*^$&%!" (of course never in front of the person who gave you the arrow)
3. Bargaining: "Encik I do this for you can get 1 day off or not?"
4. Depression: "Wah lau sian la, everyday do this kind of shit. Waste my time only..."
5. Acceptance: "Haiyah, what to do. Army what, lan lan suck thumb loh."

Comments?

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Breather

2 days into a very trying week and already I feel like calling for a time out. Office politicking is getting worse thanks to my new arrow. Don't really want to comment too much here online, but I'll deal with it. Somehow. And eventually.
Is work supposed to be so hard? Would you really have no chance to love what you do? It seems that the regulars I see in my medical centre don't really seem to love their job much. Whatever the reasons they may have for signing on, I really wonder if you have no passion for your job, how are you going to convince yourself to wake up in the morning each day to go to work?
If the next person that tells me that NS is like the outside working life I seriously don't know whether I want to believe him/her or not. Truth be told, I'm scared it'll be true. Then work would be no different from doing NS all over again. Then I might as well sign on. Right I'm sure.
I don't want this entry to degenerate into a whine fest.I think in the end someone will just tell me to shove it and quit whining and get the job done.
Truth is, there are days I get so tired of the politicking that I just want to avoid it all. But running away never solved any problems.
Anyway, hopefully when I come back here to blog again there'll be happier stuff to talk about. Being depressed is also never a good thing as well. Every experience is a learning experience, and more importantly, everyday is a day closer to ORD! :)

Sunday, June 04, 2006

You don't have to fear this love...

A week of change, if I was asked to describe the last week, those words can't be more apt. In this one week I had been shot a major arrow which effectively makes me a CO PA, made and cancelled my first day surgery appointment, and had my first AH duty yesterday.
Was quite trying at times, especially regarding that major arrow. I fear it may affect my off/leave plans, but it seems things wasn't as bad as I had imagined it. Still it isn't a walk in the park and looks like my intention of just quietly living out my 5 months left to ORD while pursuing my other goals outside national service faded faster than mist in the sun.
Yesterday's AH duty was boring, as the patients weren't really serious and they all looked stable and fine to me. Spent most of the time sitting on the comfy chairs either reading or catching forty winks in awkward angles. The female senior medic who was on duty with me brought vcds of idol dramas, which meant I had no chance to watch anything anyway as she monopolised the television.
Am currently listening to Angela Aki's This Love. Those who watch the anime Blood+ would know it as the 3rd ending song of the series. I had been a fan of Angela Aki since I heard her sing the theme for FFXII Kiss Me Goodbye and the absolutely wonderful Santa Fe, both songs I have recommended on this blog and posted the lyrics to the two songs here as well. Well I think she has managed to outdo herself this time. A very moving and powerful ballad, it has the rare distinction of being a song I fell in love with the very first time I heard it. The powerful vocals, married with the piano and violin, form a moving combination. I can feel the intense emotion as she sings every note, despite the fact that the song is mostly in japanese save for one line.
But strangely, perhaps the reason why this song gives me the chills everytime I play it, is that this song reminds me of her. Not precisely her per se, but those long forgotten and forsaken feelings associated with her. It is just a bunch of random images or sounds, like her standing in front of me, the sound of her laugh, her screwing up her face in concentration as she tackles yet another math problem, or her sweet voice chiding me to work harder.
I can't really explain why. Maybe it was due to the boredom I felt while on duty yesterday. Or perhaps the stress of the new work assignment caused me to dredge up past memories that I wanted to stay buried.
Whatever the case, I couldn't help but feel that the only english lines in this song described what transpired far too well. They were "you don't have to fear this love..."
Haha, I was so wrong then. It was always wishful thinking on my part, therefore I always felt those memories are not worth remembering, as it was one-sided.
Sometimes when the day's madness gets me down real bad, I subconsciously yearn for someone to be by my side to help me through these difficult times. Sometimes I feel like I'm about to breakdown from all the stress. But somehow I always managed to pull through. The good part of being well adjusted. Despite any changes in a situation, you would still be able to pull through in the end. Initially it'll be tough, but you'll get over it soon and be back to your old self.
In this time and age where secondary school kids are already dating at ages as young as 14, when I see them in public or in the MRT trains I feel like a voyeuristic dinosaur. I don't quite understand, I'm only 20 yet I feel so jaded. Wasn't I young like them last time? And that "last time" was just a mere 2 years ago? It seemed like an eternity ago...
I do realise I have just rambled on and on pointlessly. There's really no point going on to explain further, as in the end the answer I want will never come out. Best is to deal with it the way I have been dealing with it for the last half a year or so.
By not thinking about it.