In transit

I can't believe I'm saying this but I am heartily and truly sick of traveling. When the corridors of more than one transit stop become all too familiar, you start to realise a few things.

1) You are a cheapskate and only take flights that have at least 2 lay-overs.

2) You are traveling too much for a 19 year old.

I must confess. Every time I look at those glowing electronic boards that show the boarding gate of your connecting flight, my heart thuds painfully upon setting sight of the word Singapore. Singapore, I belong to it yet it never seems to be the destination I am searching for. With every month spent away from it, the reality of me being able to live elsewhere grows stronger.

I always thought that I would spend my adulthood in Singapore. Always thought that I would eventually marry someone from Singapore, raise my kids and well... grow old. I guess life doesn't always work the way we planned it to. Mostly because we lack knowledge during the planning stages. A character from a movie I watched recently once said " Young people never know how young they really are" That I must grudgingly admit is one of the truest things I have ever heard.

I still remember standing at the viewing platform at Changi Airport's terminal 2 longing to be on a plane. That longing later transformed into the fierce determination hardened within my heart as I stood watching the planes at Terminal 3, determined to talk, study and impress my way onto them. I wanted to see the world, to prove that I was different, to experience all that was new. I miss her, that fired up girl. I ate a fortune cookie recently and out spewed a piece of paper that said "you bring enthusiasm to those around you" Gerald who was standing by my side immediately declared it a lie. That is once again unfortunately completely true. I have lost my spark. I no longer believe that I can change the world, I no longer believe that my meagre actions can satisfy anyone... even myself. In my frenetic search for new experiences, I forgot to ground myself and as a result got lost in the vastness of what I found.

I need to find my bearings again. If I were to depend on others to be my roots, forever I will be like a tremulous autumn leaf, completely dependent on the branches for support, at mercy to the gusting winds.

The ride

Endless stagnant rows of crops, she stared unseeing through the brown tinted windows of the train. Her companion sits facing the lit up face of his computer screen, steadily chewing on a small piece of graying gum. Another train ride, more foreign lands. Dull thin droplets rolled down her cheeks, vacant and passionless.

She started off searching for adventure, success and the promise of love. She found all but lacked the ability to attain it. Weakling, the word thuds dully in her head. She is tired, she wants to rest but she does not know where. Having abandoned everything and found nothing she has nowhere to go. The train ride will end and a plane will take her to interim. A dull blue car, battered sits by the side of the tracks.

She gets up and makes her way to the toilet. Looking at the ground she avoids the lazy gazes alighting upon her. The sound of her urine hitting the metallic seat startles her. She stands up and feels a warm droplet trickle into her jeans. Sitting back in her seat she stares at the darker blue spot by the seam. Her companion lifts up his hand to scratch his head.

After a long slowly drawn circle, she is going back to China. She dimly remembers the stories her Grandmother told of the horrific place she escaped from. She cannot remember the exact details. Silent images of dull red people with open mouths and raised fists flashed in her head. She didn’t fit in where her grandmother escaped. She went back to find what she assumed she had lost, only to realize that she did not understand what was lost. Her companion came along and offered an escape. A bus, train and plane ride took her further and further away. Love became a diversion; it confounded her, she forgot what she left and what she came for.

The sun rises in the East her grandmother told her. Her teachers at school reminded her that the sun sets in the west. She thought that was where her journey would end. But she is 19 her life stretches ahead. She can’t stay in the west anymore the train takes her back, back to the home that exists no longer.

These are slightly troubling times.

My California trip so far...

My California trip so far has been composed of...

long drives, cowboys, German baptists, horses and farms.

Burgers, choc mint ice cream, huge cushy chairs, Victoria's secret, tight tank tops layered over each other, brunettes and blondes with loads of mascara and curls.

A fair, scary rides, meth consuming toothless people, corn dogs and corn on the cob.

Backyard pools, bathing suits, browned stomachs, gold streaks in brown hair.

Dogs, Papa John, Papa Harry and Nana.

Rice a roni, mac and cheese, chicken noodle soup, gigantic pantries, and cable tv.

KELLEN!

My Summer Vacation so far

Two Angels!

Camping!

A funny man!

To leave or be left behind

Today I write this, resigned yet hopeful.

I have been away for two semesters. The first resulted in the end of my first relationship, the second caused my next to bloom. Yet result or cause, the ending of each semester left my left hand swinging empty.

However I have through the passing of my first year learnt the difference between leaving and being left behind. When I left the first time, I thought I was the one who suffered. I thought I had to endure the pain of leaving at least 10 dearest behind while they had only one to lose. Now I know better, the excitement of a new place the seeking of a life where none of those left behind has left a mark on, the meeting of new people adds immense padding to the fall.

Those left behind however have to endure the exact same life only with a "you-shaped" hole punched into it. They have to walk down those very streets you once walked with them. They have to frequent the same stalls, pass by the house that you once filled. They have to live wondering if the excitement of your new world has replaced the place you had in their hearts. After all all 10 of them left behind miss you with all their hearts and you? You have to divide your affection by 10, your longing, your time...

Indeed it is much easier to leave than to be left behind. If I could choose, I would leave. Over and Over again.

Semester to Semester

I've been saying this alot lately.

People don't tell you the worst fact about life as an overseas student. They tell you about how there may be cultural differences, how you might miss home, how lost you might feel. Never do they mention the truckloads of people that start coming and going in your life. They don't talk about how the dorm hallways start to empty, how that knock on your door no longer sounds, how these people that have been an integral part of your life for the past 5 months suddenly disappear, never to be seen again. Most of the truckload you meet, learn from then wave goodbye to with nothing more than a bittersweet melancholy. However there are some whose departure you dread, those that make you think... "What will life here be without them?", people of whom sight of their luggage sends a jolt of dread straight down your spine.

Because the truth is you start off the semester slightly empty, lost without their presence. However, give it 3 weeks and it'll be like they were never in your life. Their apartment that you cycled to through winter to summer a distant dream, the imprints of the hands you held faded and lost. Perhaps it is that that we fear as we wave our dear friends away. The knowledge that soon they will cease to be as dear to us as we would like them to be, the fear that we too will soon be replaced by others in their hearts.

Every semester is like a separate world. Perhaps it is this transience that builds intense relationships between people.

YY! Beginning of Semester

Great pic size yeah? Just have to do minor adjustments to the Html :) totally awesome

Semester 2

Back on Blogger. This time with an awesome proxy suggested by Sam. Thank you!
So Grace is gone, summer stretches ahead shimmering with never ending heat waves.

I guess its time for a semester wrap up.
This semester was about people, confusion, grades. Three words to perfectly sum up the whole of my second semester in a communist country hahahaha!

Alright. I clubbed alot ... Then got sick of it.

I met alot of people, and then got sick of the bad ones. I met more people, and liked the good ones.

I worried about my future and my grades. I worried about the cons of living here. I got tired. I got sick of worrying.

I floated around and learnt much in the process. Then I got sick of it too.

After all the things I got sick of... I realized that I probably have a very short attention span or a very short irritation fuse. =)

I make good friends with Shandong people.

I need to work harder next semester.

I can live without Singapore... but that sentiment excludes its food.

I like grapefruit juice and tea eggs.

I now have 3 water dispensers in my room. Only one works. I have a fridge given by shuzhen (my old one died) I realised that my iron can be plugged in... I was always just too stupid to change the angle. I have 2 pots (donated too). A new shoe rack. We now have 3 shoeracks in the room...

Every semester is like a different life.

I can scold decently in chinese now.