Tuesday, July 28, 2015

ADM FOC 2015 Summary































































Recap video of the camp.
Posted by Kaizer Thng on Monday, July 20, 2015

I don't have to say much, I think.
ADM FOC 2015 was good.

Twenty One

Do you ever get this sudden rush of serenity and look around you and go like, "Oh, I see"? So here I am, I suppose, after all the parties and festivities have died down. Today I turn 21 and it is a soothing sort of calm. To be honest with you, becoming legal isn't something that I've pursed or wanted (maybe only when I wasn't allowed to watch Gone Girl after buying the tickets, it was very embarrassing). Anyway, I feel that it is important for me to sit here and talk about my life and turning 21 so that I can look back on this when I'm maybe, 31 and laugh at myself for all the silly things that will no longer be as important as it is to me now. 

My birthdays are usually celebrated earlier so my actual birthdays are actually very normal. Today has been a good day. I met Marsha for lunch and talked about things we always talk about. Friendships are so strange sometimes. I am always in awe at how we've managed to stay friends for 14 years given our personalities. I love her. There is nothing much to say here. 

I am thankful for having survived 21 years unscathed, unbroken and still not jaded about life. I thank God for the small things that I've come to appreciate. I'm grateful for the friends and loved ones I have in my life and the constant support they offer me. This year has been a massive roller-coaster for me. I'm still wobbly at the knees thinking about it. Where to do even begin? I have sort of planned this post, sort of. I knew I was going to be writing about it in July so I mentioned it a few posts down. Here goes:

In my first semester of ADM, I told my mum that it wasn't the school for me and that I want to leave. Like any reasonable, rational headed person, she said no. I understand why. I would have probably said no as well. It just wasn't reasonable? Practical? Like, how could I know what I wanted in such a short period of time? It was not easy for me, I didn't take it too well. I cried a lot but not out of tantrum or whatever; I cried because I was miserable. I knew what I wanted to learn and I wasn't learning what I wanted to learn. That is the simplest way to put it I suppose. I felt like I wasn't learning anything, I was annoyed and upset half the time. I was so touchy and so irritable I cannot imagine how unpleasant it was to just be around me. I'm not even going to sugar coat it. Also, when I thought about how long the course was, I panicked. Anyway, I accepted my mothers decision and stayed for the second semester. Now when I think about it, I am glad I stayed for another semester. I've made wonderful friends through this semester and participating in camp, friends that I would not have made if I left school at that time.

But here it is, I guess. I've spent a year in ADM, and I don't think it's right for me. I have left ADM and I will be flying off in September to start my term in the UK. I waited this long to say anything about it because I signed up for camp before this decision was made and after I was offered a place in the UK, I struggled with myself and my sense of responsibility. It was hard being voluntarily tied down to something that I no longer had relations to. Because I was vice-chair of the camp and because I played a role that could not be replaced, I stayed. It wasn't easy. If you can imagine yourself doing something hard and stressful for nothing, I suppose that would be it. But then when I thought about it, I wasn't doing it for nothing. I was doing it for the people I made friends with and the campers that would be coming in and now, I think that is enough for me. I don't regret it but I don't deny that it was hard to come to that conclusion. I only withdrew from NTU after camp, which ended 17th July 2015 therefore, I am only writing this now. It feels nice to finally be able to say it. 

I feel apologetic to the campers for being a part of their FOC experience and then disappearing, I realize that will come off as strange but I don't regret anything. I am thankful for the opportunity to be able to even participate in a camp. Look at me. Do I look like a camp person? My weakness is literally the sun. Me? Camp? (maniacal laughter) So yes,  I am thankful. Camp was amazing, I think it ran impressively smooth and for that I am forever grateful. I enjoyed camp, the lack of sleep, the lupsup-ness camp in general, eating packet food, running around being stressed, all that jazz. It was quite the experience and I loved it. I have many people to be thankful for. 

So my life is going in a new direction right now, it's vaguely intimidating but fun nonetheless. Like I said, this year has been quite the roller-coaster. 

(I will post a frightening amount of pictures of camp and birthday in separate posts) 

Monday, June 22, 2015

Saturday, June 20, 2015

White Wash, Black Out

The past month has been the most challenging month I've lived through thus far. A part of me feels like it should have been harder and I'm not sure if that's just me being masochistic. I'm not saying that it's been easy. Oh no, definitely not at all. I just think I've reached that point where I've gotten so used to the worst that I can't tell how bad it is anymore. You know like how you see yourself in the mirror everyday and never ever notice the change you undergo until some unimportant, snarky person comments on it. Ah, I see. That's what it was. 

I've been ruminating on the importance of communication and how it affects people in such dramatic ways. We all know babies die without physical contact and love, don't we? I've never consciously connected that to people around me. Sure, maybe our hearts don't actually give out and we're not lying on the cold hard floor but I've come to realize that there are lots of people already dead out there. The truth is, I've been really hard on myself these few weeks. I can't really explain it but I will try for the sake of my sanity and whatever else I'm still holding on to. I'm fine. I look around me and then I look at myself and I'm in no position to say I'm not fine. So I'm saying that I'm fine but I'm not belittling my problems. 

I would consider myself an empathetic person. By whose standards, I cannot say but I am generally more inclined to empathise with people. I don't pride myself in it and sometimes I despise myself for it. It doesn't always work out well for me but it is something that I've accepted as part of my personality. What I hate is, I can't seem to control it. I've been very selfish this past month. I've been unreasonably harsh and stingy with affection. I've been very cruel with and without words. When did I become so cold?  

When I'm angry, I drop everything and run away. I go away to a place where it's just me and myself and I calm down. Someone once told me you can't take back the things you've said, everyone knows that and I'm afraid of saying the wrong things so I choose to say nothing at all. Today, I see it clearer than I've ever seen it. It's funny, I've always thought that it would be me to say the unthinkable but it's not me, it's you. I don't think I will ever let you take back what you've said. I'm sorry but it echoes in my head when I look at you. When I'm alone, it hisses in my ear like a demon and I hate you for it. Maybe I'm being over dramatic. Maybe. I accept it if it is true. I'm not always right, nobody is always right. If I'm wrong go ahead and correct me, but no matter what people say, they always mean it. The moment the words tumble out of your unconscious lips, it's done. Whatever the words maybe, they are true. Perhaps not factually so, it would be very unreasonable to say everything people say is true. But I mean true in the way that you mean it and if it were a lie, it was completely and solely your intention to lie and that makes the act of it true. You can't take it back. Do I make sense? It's okay. This isn't for you. It's for me.

I'm not really sure why I'm writing this, it's a bit of a mess. Maybe I'm trying to say sorry. Normally, I'm quite good at saying sorry. I like to believe I can accept my wrongdoings and move on. But you won't let me move on. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being so hateful when you're struggling too. I'm sorry I'm not patient enough. I'm sorry I'm not mature enough or compassionate enough. I'm sorry I despise the way you behave. I'm sorry for belittling your struggles and making them seem like it's nothing. I don't know how to do this. This is new to me. I don't know what to say or do for you. I'm sorry I run away when it happens, I despise myself for being able to shut you out. I sometimes wonder if it's because you don't mean anything to me but then I quickly brush it away. 

I'm also sorry to myself for apologising so much. Parts of me, the selfish parts anyway, hates you for ruining my happy ending. Why can't you be the mature one? Why does it have to be me? Why me

I'm feeling a frighting range of emotions. 

I'm fine. 

I'm good at being fine. I just block everything out and remove myself from the picture. I continue living and I leave you behind. There is a part of me that hates myself for being this way, but it's a small part. 


Thursday, June 18, 2015

Well,


If it makes anyone feel any better; The person I have the least amount of patience for is myself.

I have some news.
But it is not time to share it. 
I will share it in July.