C C Z H

The pedestrian light turned green, signaling to me that it was safe to cross. I didn’t move an inch. Standing in the midst of a steady midnight drizzle, I was lost in my thoughts. A countdown timer soon joined the lonely green man, maintaining a steady rhythm towards zero. Snapping awake, I realised I was much too late, for the green man had already vacated his position for his red counterpart. A curse word hung on my lips for a second, but I resisted the urge to release it. Foul words are best saved for foul people, therefore the situation did not warrant its use.

I took a second to picture how laughable a sight I must have been. The Honda Civic that just blazed past must have, for at least a handful of seconds, been a vessel of sniggers. Pressing the tip of my floorball stick against the metal button, I readjusted my stance in preparation for another arduous wait. The green man sure takes long breaks in between his shifts. I like to think that we are our own best doctors, as only we can diagnose emotional sicknesses in ourselves. Not all illnesses have to be physically debilitating, after all. It is possible to have runny sadness, for example, or projectile infuriation. Worse of all? Chronic insecurity coupled with a bad case of self-doubt. Based on my five seconds of self-analysis, that was definitely what I was suffering from.

The smell of rain has always been a favourite of mine, but the same cannot be said of thunder. I used to fear heaven’s rock concert, cowering beneath my blankets at the mere sight of lightning. As the number of candles on my birthday cakes grew, so has my love for thunderstorms. What was once an jarring, ominous refrain has become a soothing chorus. Whenever lightning strikes, I retreat into my room, where I’ll always have a good book and a cup of green tea for company. As I finally crossed the road to my flat, a thunderstorm was all that I was praying for. I could always use some quiet reflection time, but that Monday night called for it just a tinge more desperately.

This last week, I find myself smiling less and sleeping more. Whilst additional sleep is typically regarded as beneficial to your well-being, the same cannot be said when the shuteye is carried out during curricular hours. Finding the same innocent joy and excitement in going to school now seems impossible, much unlike the first weeks. As the wind of change dies down and the dust settles, it is up to me to sweep up the remnants and sort out my life. From the very beginning, I’ve had my reservations on many of my decisions regarding my post-secondary education. I won’t elaborate on them, but I can promise that I’ll make the best of what I have now, for better or for worse. I hope to rediscover the love I had for school, and I’m confident I will soon. Moods pass quickly, and hopefully the dark clouds that loom over my head will too. Light will come. I’m sure of it. Till then, here’s to a better week ahead.

CCZH

Over the course of the past year, I’ve come to realise that I find it impossible to hate anybody. However, before I move on, here’s an admission. Yes, there are people who get on my nerves, and these same people usually get on the nerves of many others as well. Whether its due to the way they speak or act, or in some cases, a single one foul encounter, I end up limiting my interactions with these individuals. I detest conflict, in fact, I would rather play the running game than to clash heads with anyone. While some may see this as a form of weakness, I view my practice as a way to maintain my inner peace. Rather than needlessly infuriating myself by being in the presence of those that don’t quite float my boat, I keep my distance.

I dare not say, or rather, I can say with certainty, that I am not a universally well-liked person. Another thing I can say with certainty is that nobody is, or ever will be. Everyone has their anathema, and their anathemas have theirs as well. I can’t pinpoint when I started disliking these people, but the moment in which I struck them off my “black book”? That I can. Bearing hatred for someone is akin to carrying a cross. It weighs you down, suffocates you even, and worst of all? It prevents you from keeping your heart open. Repulsion from others only draws you closer to the ones you already love. Your relationship circle would become enclosed, for fear of meeting yet more bête noires. In short, you won’t ever be as open to new relationships as if you wash away your existing hatreds.

“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about.”

I started off this post by claiming I find it impossible to hate anyone. Let me clarify. I have, and still do hate some people. What I meant by my rather bold statement is that I never bear hate for extended periods of time. For whenever I step into their shoes and see their lives from their point of view, the reasons behind every last one of their actions becomes crystal clear. I’ve learnt that there’s always a reason or a motive behind the way people act. Be it insecurity, fear or arrogance, their actions all play a part towards their battle to reach the ultimate goal that everyone seeks to find, happiness. Everyone wants happiness, but all of us have different paths towards finding this elusive treasure. Just because someone’s path doesn’t quite match up to mine is not a reason to hate them.

“In the moment when I truly understand my enemy, understand him well enough, then in that very moment I also love him. I think it’s impossible to really understand somebody, what they want, what they believe, and not love them the way they love themselves.”

I’ve edited this excerpt from Ender’s Game to better fit the context of my topic, but the essence of it remains the same. When I understand the reasons behind the way my “enemies” act, I begin to love them. Love them the way they love themselves. Fighting their own lonely battle as I am fighting mine. Every good book has a prologue, and every good person has theirs. Before judging them, I’m sure to read the vital first few pages of their lives. My perception of them thereafter hinges on this practice. Open your hearts, dear readers, and keep an open mind too. Read the full story, not just the pages you feel most strongly for.

CCZH

It’s been weeks since I’ve last lay down on my bed on a weekday afternoon, and upon turning my head, my gaze rested upon my trusty laptop. It stood atop my desk, screen raised. It was an invitation to write, and it’s an invitation I accept with alacrity. I’ll try my very best, despite my fatigue, to provide you all with an adumbration of the past week, albeit one lacking in circumlocutions, which require a sharper mind.

To put it simply, the past week was a strange one. It started well, almost burning with positivity, but the fire was quickly extinguished, leaving only ashes by week’s end. It all culminated in an a conflict, one in which I’ll never be free of compunction. I had a wonderful Good Friday, filled with laughter and boisterous carousing. Friendships were forged and strengthened, while some bridges were unapologetically burnt. Following a weekend of unintentional procrastination, the school week started strongly, both in the academic sense and otherwise. Alas, it all went downhill from thereon.

On a more reflective note, I believe I’ve discovered my anathema: people who think that and act as if they’re better than others. Specifically, people who take every opportunity to put you down and play themselves up. Their heads are perpetually raised, yet their eyes point downwards, filled with raw condescension. In the past, intense rage would build within me during my interactions with them. However, I’ve learnt through experience the most effective way to deal with these people. And that is to agree with them, to nod and to smile, and to play along with them. Despite my strong feelings towards them, upon closer inspection, I always understand the reasons behind their actions. Once I do, it is impossible not to want to help them change their ways.

Pardon my aggressiveness, for my aim is not to denigrate anyone, and trust me when I say I would never stoop so low. In putting my thoughts into words, I calm myself. Although my aim, to a significant extent, is to give enjoyment to my readers, my eternal belief is that the motivation to write should lie within yourself. I hope to write again soon.

Note: Excessive use of vocabulary for trial purposes only.

CCZH

Whilst taking my customary hour-long shower, I came to a sudden realisation: I’m a deeply unhappy person. Every night before I sleep, I mull over the day’s happenings, more specifically, everything that wasn’t perfect. My heart would palpitate, and my breaths would shorten. My head would spin, dizzy with anger and dissapointment at myself. Why did I say that to her? Why am I hopeless at chemistry? Why didn’t I score that goal? The stress that I put on myself shows. Pimples bursting out from the depths of my cheeks are complemented by my furrowed brows. I’m so often lost in my own thoughts, so busy wallowing in self-hatred that I come off as an ignorant fool. The worst part of it all? I smile. Smile through it all, burying the cold pain with forged happiness. I take myself too seriously, and am unwilling to let go and just be myself. Too caught up with crafting a perfect me, I forgot what life is for in the first place. To live.

But wait, the story hasn’t ended yet, for I made this realisation not today, but last week. I was spilling my sorrows to my old friend when he offered to me this piece of gold, “Chin, in life you win some and you lose some. Why grow old so quickly being a grumpy boy? Take every positive, and use it to light a blazing fire, one which nothing can extinguish. Live life with a smile, love it. And to hell those who say it won’t love you back.” Accustomed to being the one offering advice rather than recieving it, his words caught me off guard. How true they were, how damn bloody true. Although he pulled the last sentence straight from an old blog post of mine, it still struck a raw nerve in me.

Why am I punishing myself by living my days as an unhappy man? I can’t expect myself to be good at everything can I? Yes, the pursuit of perfection is a noble one indeed, but reaching it should not be the only thing that brings me satisfaction. The road towards reaching it, the ongoing act of self-improvement, that should. All the ups and downs that I experience, I should take them as learning points. The downs are not mere unfortunate events, they steer me towards the destination. From that day on, I no longer had sleepless nights. I would lay in bed with a large grin, satisfied and feeling blessed with the day past.

The best part about this? I feel young again. I feel my smile coming back and my face slowly brightening. My conversations no longer start with “Why did I?” but rather “I’m glad I now know!” And as I’m writing this, on the way back home after a long training session, I can honestly say I’ve never felt so free. I’m looking forward to the new day ahead, and all of its blessings and afflictions. No surprises on which of them I’ll be counting is there?

CCZH

Underneath the concrete bridge where we stood, we were sheltered from the pouring rain. My hair was a mess, a slimy mix of water and styling wax. I ran my fingers through my fringe, sending it arcing upwards before it collapsed, forming a cocoon-like structure. The chilling wind was incessant, chilling our soaked bodies to the core. Taking a seat on the roadside curb, I pat the space beside me with my palm as an inviting gesture. Obliging, my partner laid a plastic bag carefully onto the damp stone before taking a seat. What a clean freak – I guess that explains why we’re kindred spirits.

Neither of us pulled out our cellphones, nor did we exchange derogatory jokes. No, we had the simplest of conversations, sharing with one another how our lives have been since the last time we met. And boy, what a conversation it was. Excuse my inability to find a more apt description of my feelings then, but I felt warm despite the unfriendly weather. When you are in the presence of someone whom you feel genuinely cares about you, there’s a certain warmth that emanates from them. You can spend an eternity basking in their radiant light, and you’ll love every second of it.

Make no mistake, I’m a big fan of humor, conversations with me are typically loaded with jokes and satire. There is nothing that makes me happier than bringing a smile to someone’s face, too much of it though, can be exhausting. NASA’s rocket landings, the prettiest girl in school, plans for tomorrow’s lunch, topics like these are commonplace. Meaningful conversations like the one I mentioned above? They are few and far between. After all, not every friend is one you can share everything with, and vice-versa.

I define a true friend as one you can bare your true self to, your flaws, insecurities, problems, failures, all without the fear of judgement. Whilst scouring the internet for quotes in hope of a brilliant idea for a blog post, I came across this.

“You cannot truly love the person you are afraid to lose.”

My first reaction was to forcibly expel air from my nostrils. Hmph. What utter nonsense, I thought. Pardon the cliché, but that night as I lay in bed, it struck me how true this was. Raw honesty is needed for a true friendship, however uncomfortable it might be. How many friends do you have that tell you without hesitation that you’re being selfish, or arrogant? How many friends do you have that you can share your most personal problems with? If you’re afraid of losing someone, you wouldn’t be overly harsh with your criticisms of them, nor would you expose your less-than-perfect side to them. The fear of saying something that would end the relationship, it keeps you from attaining the ultimate level of friendship. In short, you might have fun with them, but it wouldn’t, and never will be, a transparent friendship. Burying secrets and discontent might buy time, but there’s only so much you can bury before they break the surface and reveal themselves.

I apologise for the lower quality of writing this time, but I needed to get this off my chest. My thoughts may be disorganised, but I hope you get the gist of it and appreciate the informality of it all. Words are sacred, and some of them are worth more than others. Those of lower value, like humor and idle talk, might bring laughter. Priceless words of care and concern, for example, bring much more with them. Choose wisely, for the value of your words hinges on your decisions. And the repercussions? You alone shall bear. The question is simple, what do you want to be remembered as? A true, trustworthy friend? Or maybe your wish is simply to be a harbinger of good times and nothing more.

CCZH

Sources: Jamie Varon

Waves rolled gently onto the fine white sand, spraying seawater ever so slightly into the air. Caucasian ladies clad in bikinis lay on their backs, their minimal clothing ensuring maximum absorption of harmful ultraviolet rays. Despite the tranquil surroundings, my mind was not at peace. I received my examination results a week ago, and the days that followed were filled with emotional conflict. The funniest part of my predicament? It has nothing to do with my results. I won’t elaborate on them, but I can safely say that my hard work has been repaid to a satisfactory extent. The problem lay in the uncertain future, or rather, my reluctance to move on from the past.

My four years in secondary school were wonderful, despite my torrid time in primary school being an unfair benchmark to begin with. On hindsight, there were many things I could have done differently in primary school, but I will save that topic for another post. I met all sorts of individuals, all with their own unique personalities. Of course, only some of them are my cup of tea, but what would school life be without a sprinkling of people who are not? Cross-dressing wierdos? Arrogant musicians? Lifeless academics? Hell, one of my best friends has a head the shape of a slice of pizza. These four years have been filled with colour, to say the least. I can put my hand on my heart and say I treasure every friendship forged and every memory made.

What was bothering me then, you may ask. It was the friendships that were simply not to be. I am sure most of you had someone in your life that you thought were the one, but your relationship could not stand the test of time, or the test itself revealed certain incompatibilities that ended it. Similarly, you might have had someone you were dying to be friends with, but the opposite party did not share your enthusiasm.

(TO BE CONTINUED)

CCZH

In essence, friendships are connections, but it is foolish to think of them as a simple line that connects two individuals, for they are far more complicated than that. I like to think of friendships as complex webs, strung together by interactions and kept standing by will. Will, or perhaps more accurately, tolerance, is what keeps friendships from disintegrating. Perhaps I am too young to say for sure, but from my limited experience, I can safely say that there is no such thing as a perfect friend.

I’ve known Linda for eight years now, and she has been with me through thick and thin. She was there when I broke my elbow, tolerating my incessant moaning about the discomfort of my full-arm cast. She was, and still is, the first to drop me a happy birthday message every year, at precisely twelve midnight. Yet, there are times I feel like feeding her long hazel hair through the back of an electric fan. Prepare yourselves for an onslaught of unsavory adjectives. Linda is stingy, clingy, noisy, inappropriate, obnoxious, spoiled, vulgar, careless, dull, ignorant and at times, even smelly. And this is only a sampling, for I could fill an entire dictionary with words like these. Worst still, at the back of my head, I know for a fact that she thinks the same of me. But you know what? We are still best of friends to this day, eight years after we met each other in primary school.

The key, my dear reader, is tolerance, the ability to look past the imperfections of your friends. If I only accepted perfect friends, to put it bluntly, I would have none. I am sure that my friends are as understanding of my weaknesses and limitations as I am of theirs, and this is how we keep our friendship webs from collapsing. So, the next time you are full of complaints about your friend, or angry at one of their particular character traits, remember this: You are not perfect either, and yet your friends accept you. If you bear this in mind, I can bet a pretty penny that you will have happier and more fulfilling friendships.

CCZH

“Life has a beautiful, crazy design.”

The sight before me was pleasantly familiar, for the same scenery had greeted me just a little over a year earlier. Dramatic stone cliffs dotted with precariously positioned bushes met the emerald lake at an almost perpendicular angle. Being so used to the concrete jungle on the mainland, this majestic sight seemed slightly surreal. Palau Ubin does have its sweet spots. My classmates were seated with me, our bottoms cushioned by wild, scraggly grass. Their endless, but welcome chatter surrounded me, but I was strangely silent.

I took a second to zone out from my surroundings, to let everything fade into the background. Closing my eyes, all I could hear was the soft breeze whispering its secrets into my ears. I am aware that there is more to life than examinations, but having been released from its vice-like grip on my time, I value highly the time afforded to me to let time just past me by. The rat race of the past month has given way to a sensual saunter. The effect of this is profound, as I now have the time to truly appreciate life and view it from an alternate perspective.

We often find ourselves frustrated with life, be it relationship complications or difficulties in studies, life often finds a way to hurl an obstacle at us at every corner. And due to this constant dissatisfaction, we tend to neglect the positives, letting even the littlest of negatives overshadow them. I say ashamedly that I too wallow in the ponds of sorrow far more than I swim in the oceans of happiness. I would pick out the smallest of issues in a largely perfect day and label it a failure in its entirety. Instead of being content with what I have achieved, I dwell in the disappointment of what could have been.

Opening my eyes, I was greeted by a pair of inquisitive eyes.

“Wah, very quiet ah Chin!”, said the proud owner of those piercing eyes.

Unable to contain my joy, a beaming smile spread across my face. At that precise moment, I realised what a blessed man I was. I am blessed to be able to call these people seated around me, and indeed many others, true friends. I am blessed to have family members that love me unconditionally, who support me regardless of my decisions, and who are more than willing to guide me through the maze of life. I am blessed with the gift of education, to be able to fill my mind with knowledge that will enable me to make my mark on this world. And above all, I am blessed with the gift of life itself, to experience this wonderful universe from my little perspective.

All my sorrows seemed so miniscule beside these blessings, and by comparing them I had learnt a priceless lesson. Love life and it will love you back.

“Wah, Chin, what the hell are you smiling at?”, this time in a more worried tone.

I looked into his eyes and proudly proclaimed, “Everything.”

CCZH