Sunday 4 August 2013

31 July 2013

It is safe to say that I am in a new stage of my life. I am re-thinking the priorities in my life, and learning more about what I can handle.

As with most young adults, I have had a number of turning points in my life. The first time Brandon recognised the potential of my sulky underachieving teenage butt and gave me a leadership position, the time I decided that I had to get a scholarship to go overseas, becoming head girl guide, joining NYAA and subsequently PAYM, meeting Ken and Oliver in Russia - people that became great mentors and motivators in my life, getting the STB scholarship and going to China when I was 18, meeting amazing people like Gerald that helped me realise that I can pave my way in life without leaning on the government, breaking my bond, coming to HK, and now...

31 July 2013

I would like to forever remember this date. I see it as the cumulation of all the turning points of my life. On the 31st of July, I moved out of my college dorm and my cushy scholarship padded life into the real world. 

With all my possessions in HK, I stepped into a dimly lit, green living room. Straight ahead of me, was a cluttered table with two computers on it and two green chairs jostling for space next to it. Deeper into the corridor two wardrobes blocked the entrances of the toilet and kitchen. On my left, a tower of filled plastic boxes, three luggages and wooden planks leaning haphazardly against the wall. On my right, a bunk bed with curtains sticking out, the narrowest passage way and two mismatched wardrobes. Like confetti, the floor was littered with cable ties, plastic wrappers and tools. I look ahead to see my landlord in the midst of all the crap, telling me that the wardrobe has not arrived, and he has not built the bed yet. A sinking feeling started making itself known in the pit of my stomach as I gazed around the cramped living room and realised that where my bunk bed was supposed to be, there was already another against the wall.

“Cody, where is my bed going to be?” “Here, right here!” He motions to the area perpendicular to the other bed. “How is it going to fit? The bed is too long.” “No, no it’s fine, it will fit, don’t worry!”… (I went back that afternoon to see my bed sticking out into the corridor, partially blocking the way to the kitchen and bathroom)

That night during dinner at Ikea with JY and Cindy, still unsure if my bed is even built, we started talking about the honors results released that morning. JY and Cindy were despairing about their honors, and I suddenly had an epiphany. Sure, I got a first class. It was all that I had ever wanted for the past three years; I worked my butt off for it, obsessed over it and thought that it would change my life. There I was, sitting in Ikea with two of my friends who didn’t get first class honors, but had their own rooms to live in. I finally understood what all the big shots meant when they said that university merely gives you a piece of paper. It was quite bittersweet to realise that at the end of the day, all that I valued, did not seem to matter in a world that uses a currency I don't quite have enough of.

To cut an unnecessarily long story short, by the end of the night, I found myself in my new home. Three bunk beds, three wardrobes squeezed in a living room that was HK sized. Whenever I needed to walk anywhere in the house, I had to turn sideways and crabwalk. At least everyone is nice; there is a lot of waiting at junctions for someone to crabwalk out before one crabwalks in. I slept the first night without curtains on my bunk bed and no earplugs.

Okay, I exaggerated when I said that I “slept”. Woke up the next morning, skyped Jason and started crying as I talked. I was overwhelmed, my nerves rubbed raw and generally depressed.

Four nights in, I have pretty much adapted to the place. I set up a system in my bunk bed with areas for hanging my ear plugs and eye mask, electrical cords extend to my bed, a hanging lamp, I’ve got a curtain, and I am even getting used to the swaying motion of my bed as people bump into it on the way in/out of the kitchen/bathroom area. I have even managed to do work in my bed during the last two nights. For now, the new bed is called “THE BAT CAVE”.


I think I will be all right.

Wednesday 30 January 2013

B

I dreamt of B today. I woke up from the dry, shallow inhalations that were my body's attempt to breathe through the weight.

We were laughing helplessly at each other's antics. I was angry, petulant in the beginning. However he lost his balance and was falling over me, and I punched his balls by mistake. It was a riot.

Thursday 17 January 2013

So blasé about the butt

In Literally by Antonya Nelson 

“Do you know there’s a second part to that expression? The ‘retentive’ part?” his father asked. “It’s amazing how comfortable people are tossing that around—‘anal retentive.’ People are very casual with the psychology. So blasé about the butt.”