Skin

I dreamt of you a few times in the last few weeks. Even on days where I thought you weren’t in my mind.

I miss you today. I miss the passion, I miss your skin. I miss feeling happy. I miss being hugged. I miss being kissed. I miss kissing you. I miss looking at your face when it’s just us.

And yet, last night I realised that perhaps being with you doesn’t make me feel good about myself. It’s not your issue, but mine – working on taking ownership of my feelings. I think I hid away some parts of me which I was afraid you didn’t approve of (well some parts we both knew you didn’t approve of – like my job), and things like how low energy / not so positive I am. And yes perhaps some of it I am wrong about. But it just felt that way (or is that how I feel about myself?). But you loved me anyway. Until you couldn’t.

It’s hard not to feel rejected in some way. I’m trying actively to fight it. That actually it’s just a bad fit. But even that hurts. It just hurts, tonight.

I saw you today, because I’d ordered vegan chai for you. Dropped it off. Was my best extroverted self, didn’t feel too weird. Didn’t stay long either. Last night at the studio when I offered to help, she gave me some weird vibes that made me feel like she questioned my intentions so I was a bit sad about that. Like I’m just trying to help since I’m waiting around, not at the main area since there were quite a few of us already, and wanted to fill the time. Just tell me if you don’t need help – no need to tell me to ask S… Oh well. I realised also that she is definitely less sensitive than some of us – like how T reacted to not being part of the lantern making – I could empathise to that kind of sensitivity. But I guess her and S, they don’t really get it. So that was a helpful lens through which to see – it affirms that I am not overly sensitive. People are just different.

And yes, I have been thinking about how she said we were different. And I do see a lot of it. But I still thought at the core of us, that there was some tender parts which could connect. I suppose I should just be glad that we gave it a good go. A year of each other’s lives.

I felt a bit unsure when you asked me to join your lantern party. I’ve been trying to tell myself that you just treat me as a friend, and you no longer have feelings for me which is why you can re-categorise me so quickly. And that you would buy cake for your friends too.

I still treat you as more than friends, for sure – so it’s hard for me to be around you still, somewhat. But I don’t dare to say no, because the alternative (being completely not in each other’s lives) isn’t any better. I cancelled my commune session tonight since I’d just be there too much. But today I did have the thought that perhaps my days at the studio is numbered… I don’t know if I can handle you treating me as a friend when I am still grieving losing you. I know the truth is, I don’t know how you feel – and you are mature enough not to let on how you actually do, you would not make things difficult for me by appearing hesitant.

I always try to come back to the fact that ultimately I care about you and want you to be happy. And I’m happy that you seem happier. I too, feel more free. Less noise (other than last night) about what you think of me. I seem to struggle with that a bit.

Oh, and the way T totally took ownership of her emotions (and also that you didn’t react negatively) was something that struck me. I knew immediately that it wasn’t something I have done well, and that I would like to do better. I didn’t do it that (fateful) night at the studio. I haven’t forgiven myself for that yet.

I hold onto the way you held my hand back and the way our shoulders were close that night. I hold onto the way you put my socks and shoes on.

I hold on, but I should let go. Because I’m just in an empty room, doing the holding on – you are not here. Not on this couch. Not at my dining table. Not in my common bathroom. You are not here.

What does it mean when you love someone who finds love a nice-to-have, who doesn’t always want you around. I can’t help but feel that I am the one who needs it too much – and I think that, objectively is true. And that’s fine, I’m working on it – working on building a life which I am fulfilled. I guess it just makes me sad that you didn’t place the same amount of importance on this – well, I guess it just confirmed out loud something I felt, especially post CB (probably because early days in the relationship before CB). Love was a focal point for me – and even in the future I do see it as equally or more important than work and other parts of life. Whereas it was something nice to have for you.

Hails reminded me that values aren’t just things like kindness and genuine nature, they are essentially how we want to live, and I do agree that that didn’t really match. You wanted to be held loosely, and I couldn’t do it. I wanted to be held tightly, and you couldn’t do it. I wanted to mean more to you.

A few words can mean so much

This message from Beijing warms the cockles of my weary, powerpoint-laden heart. How not to love friends like these?

“Darling. I hope one day u will get married in New York. I’ll be the first to be there!!! J”

GE2011

The past 2-3 weeks have been a very personal journey for me. It’s not something I think I can adequately express except to those who are very close to me. I guess it’s almost geeky, which makes me a little embarrassed to talk about it to most.  But I hold these beliefs with such conviction that I have to write about it here.

When I returned to Singapore on May 3, being in time to vote was one of the peripheral advantages of the trip. I am not sure if it was the news coverage or people talking about it, or the fact that I don’t like making uninformed choices that prompted me to get online and start finding out more. For the first time in my life, we were in a district where we could vote (despite being rezoned out of a district we have been in for the past xx years). I think one of the first videos I watched was one of Nicole Seah’s earlier rallies. I was surprised when I was almost moved to tears.

I have been away from home for almost 7 years now. When I first left home in 2004 bound for London, I hadn’t given much thought as to when I would return. Fast forward 7 years and I still have not chosen to return. Other than personal and career concerns, my love-dislike (hate being too strong a word) relationship with Singapore was another factor. Too staid, too sterile, too little character, too soul-less. I had become indifferent towards Singapore. I liked it on a micro level since I enjoyed seeing loved ones and friends when I was back. But as a country? I didn’t love it nor hate it. I just didn’t want to live there; Not at this point in my life.

Whenever the topic of Singapore politics came up during my time away, I have never had much opinion or interest. What I thought was apathy was simply because I fully accepted the status quo – we weren’t going to be able to change things anyway, so any discussion is purely hypothetical. We were an autocratic society, but I had always been of the view that in exchange for this lack of civil liberties, we have safe streets, our people had affordable public housing, and from a survival perspective, there’s really not much to complain about relative to many other Asian nations.

I am not apathetic. I just couldn’t imagine that we had a say in how the country is run.

Much as a lot of the Opposition rallies were populist and perhaps idealistic or a tad simplistic/not well substantiated, they had heart. A lot of it. They had a love for Singapore and Singaporeans burning in their hearts, which we see in a choice few politicians in the ruling party. The man who ran in my district? I did not see it in his eyes, nor in his body language. Is it because they are just poor at expressing themselves and poor public speakers? Well, even as weak as Mr Chiam See Tong is today, this love for our country and its people remains evident if you watch his rallies.

Sadly, I only managed to attend one rally. I had never seen so many Singaporeans together at once, other than during National Day Parade or during the New Year’s Eve countdown. There was a buzz in the air, an energy. A sense of solidarity. And when the pledge was recited? Looking around, everyone was reciting it with pride and probably with a newfound appreciation for the meaning of the words we have mindlessly memorised before. It gave me goosebumps.

They also talked about progress for the country that is not economic. I have to admit, the way I have been wired – I had to think about this a little. Its a simple concept, but perhaps not intuitive to the practical-minded Singaporean. But I did a bit of googling, and found that the concept actually makes a lot of sense and is not all fluff. See the UN Human Development website here.

To people who feel that Singaporeans are just complaining too much and unappreciative of what we have today – I say that we have had a great run in the past 50 years and we have a lot that other countries struggle to achieve, but we need to aspire to more. Our incumbents have done a very good job, but it’s time we re-assess the social costs at which this progress comes. In 2009, our Gini coefficient was 2nd only to Hong Kong amongst the more developed countries in the world. The ratio of incomes between the top 10% and bottom 10% of Singaporeans was about 17:1. Surely that speaks to a widening income gap which should not be ignored. Would progress achieved at these costs be sustainable?

Anecdotally, it’s evident that the income gap in Hong Kong is wider than it is in Singapore. There are Bentleys, tons of people carriers with chauffeurs, teens toting Berkins while chilling on Daddy’s yacht, plenty of exclusive club memberships and mansions in Repulse Bay. I know the above are extremes, but money and status here are important. The rich are certainly richer, and are not afraid to have you know it.

On the other hand, the Singapore I know and love is down to earth. Sure, we have our Nassim and Queen Astrid Park. But we are happy to eat at hawker centres, drive our own cars, and complain about the extra few dollars we have to spend on ERP. We know the value of money. I would hate to see Singaporeans lose that quality. Whenever I return from Singapore, I feel a bit more grounded.

I now know that there are people who are provided under SGD300 a month under public assistance, and that only about 3,000 Singaporeans (not households) receive assistance. 50% of applications for public assistance were rejected. I now know that we don’t have minimum wage in Singapore. I now know that the cost of housing is increasing to the point that people cannot afford our previously affordable public housing. Even anecdotally, I’ve seen friends complain on Facebook that they are unable to get on trains in the morning because of how full they are. I now see the disconnect that has developed between the incumbent government and the layperson.

I cannot un-know these things now that I know them. Being away from home, I am still figuring out how I can best help in one way or another. But I will never forget GE2011. There are still many questions which I have not found answers to, yet already I have learnt so much about where I come from, Singaporeans, and myself. I have rediscovered my pride to be Singaporean. And that’s something no National Day Parade or no daily singing of the national anthem has ever achieved for me.

A Year Ago Today.

Thankfully this year’s March 14th finds me in much better emotional and potentially maybe perhaps, physical shape. Heck, I signed up for an 8.8km run in Osaka today. The act of signing up alone should constitute better physical health on its own. A new job (soon enough), a new flat, new lessons learnt about love, new relationships re-forged with my family , and a new appreciation for the importance of friends in one’s life. A new appreciation for photography, design and music.

And today, a new sign from the universe that all is not over for me, that there might ACTUALLY be someone interesting out there that I might have the chance to get to know. When I’d nearly all but given up. Very very early days, so lets all hold on to our knickers.

Perhaps, just perhaps, I might be starting to understand that to get through this life, one needs faith. Whether this faith is misplaced or not is not the point. What matters is that it gets you through the day. Mine is not religious, but just the faintest optimism (yes, the O word! unheard of for cynics like me) that despite the universe moving as slowly as the plot on Days of Our Lives, good things will eventually happen.

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“I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go. Things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they’re right. You believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself. And sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together.”

—Marilyn Monroe

(from onebeatslower)

By The Time

It seems only fitting to play By The Time while marinating these thoughts. My brain’s fried from these couple of late nights at work – I’m struggling to find the words. And it seems like the internet provider has shut my internet off.
I’ve spent the past hour and a half organizing my possessions, preparing for the movers tomorrow. The nostalgia only hit me when I got out of the cab earlier – won’t be stopping here tomorrow night. I’m now returning the flat to its original state, back to what it was about a year ago.
At least, on the surface. Tear it all down, rebuild. Inhale, exhale…
I leave behind many memories in this flat. From the fateful day I moved in to this point… what a journey it has been. Apartments are a little like relationships – Last year I’d told myself I hope this one lasts two years, that’s all I ask. I was referring to both. So I suppose since one was a letdown, the other wasn’t destined to last.
Its part moving to a new flat, part cleansing ritual. Its a bittersweet feeling. These walls have witnessed great joy and painful upheaval, as much as they have witnessed healing (as well as a lot of online shopping). Its come full circle now. I can’t help but hope the next flat will hold few painful memories and more pleasant ones.
Goodbye QT, goodbye J.

Lies lies lies

Does it still mean anything if you find out that someone told you a lie a few years ago? Are lies still as much of a transgression if you find out 4 years down the road?

I flew thousands of miles, and you lied. You made your friends lie for you. I was young, a student.

I have no words.

Fuck you for making me the fool.

Fuck you.

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