Enjoying Life...?

“Good. Go and enjoy life.”

This has become my usual line in the daycare centre. I say it to kids from my Year Two class who have completed their homework and revision for the day.

Every time I’d say that, they’d flash their sheepish, bashful smiles. Some asked what I meant exactly by “enjoying life”. I simply told them to do whatever they wanted (as long as it didn’t disturb other ongoing classes) and, literally, enjoy life.

Some choose to draw, some read comics, and the boys of course play games. Regardless, they’d always seem to be enjoying themselves. I’d look at them and sometimes travel back in time when I once was like them: carefree, worriless and happy.

In fact, most of us were like that. Most of our childhoods were some of the most magical and enchanting times of our lives filled with memories that we’d give anything and everything to relive them once more. We really did enjoy life.

Then we started growing up. And gradually, you learn that life’s actually a lot tougher than you think.

They say ‘ignorance is bliss’, and rightfully so. I’ve yet to start university and I’ve already found myself constantly worrying about a variety of things: present challenges, future obstacles, even personal demons. I’d like to think it’s the same for most of us. Our thoughts are plagued with valid, terrifying concerns, that it really is hard to take ourselves out of everything, and just enjoy life. It simply doesn’t work that way.

A friend of mine recently texted me out of the blue and asked me what ‘enjoying life’ meant to me. Given how much of that phrase I’ve used over the past month or so, I was taken aback momentarily by the coincidence.

Then it occurred to me: other than shrugging off my kids’ questions about this, I’ve never really given much thought about enjoying life.

I promised him I’d write on this to answer his question, thinking I’d be able to formulate something. As of now, I’m rather baffled by my failing to do so.

I’m still 19, I still have so much ahead of me, and I still don’t really know what the fuck I’m doing with life. But I do know what I’d like to chase after. I’d be lying if I said the thought of possessing unparalleled wealth, migrating to the States and living the LA life didn’t excite me. I’ve wanted for these to happen since god-knows-when, and I still do. We all have dreams and things we want that seem so farfetched and outlandish that even we sometimes question our sense of reasoning. I for one do that more often than you’d imagine. Not that I’m gonna stop working towards realizing that dream of mine, but I do think that there are some more important things in life that I’d like to work for, more than anything.

I can’t go back in time and relive my childhood days. I can’t run away from obligations. I can’t depend on anyone else anymore to sustain myself…financially, at least. I have to work. I have to have a career. And in that case, I’m gonna enjoy my work. Not necessarily the politics and nature of the workfield, but the essence of what I do for work. Fuck expectations, especially those from single-minded parents. This is your life, and yours only. You’re living it, not them. Go after what you truly feel passionate about. I spent most of my schooling years trying to find a conventional STEM career that I would be good at, all while denying my desire of using my voice to entertain people. If it’s enjoying life you desire, then don’t sacrifice your happiness and sanity in favour of another career option that doesn’t interest you whatsoever. I truly believe if you enjoy your work, you will most definitely be productive and successful at it too. Both come hand in hand.

Speaking of which, being mediocre in what I do is an absolutely terrifying thought. Taylor Swift said the exact same thing. When it comes to things I truly have a passion for, I’ve always made it a point to put in the work and dedication to be good at them. This first came for me in the form of examination scores, which later on expanded to co-curricular competitions and my coaching duties back in school. To not give it your all, or to render yourself from being 100% is in my opinion to allow yourself to sink in remorse later on. Past experiences have taught me that to strive for excellence in the things you enjoy doing is truly an unparalleled reward. And I think that’s another way of enjoying life, too. To always be dedicated in your job and to never stop reaching for the sky…that can liberating and fulfilling, too.

I long for love. Love from my family and friends. Love from…a lover. And love doesn’t always come easy, especially for people living in regions in which society imposes a fixed definition on something so transcendent and heavenly. And that’s a massive reason as to why I hope to relocate to a foreign land, where the embracing and acceptance of love remains far more abundant. That aside, I’m still hopeful despite the circumstances. I’d love to have an amazing circle of people in my life as my rock, and know that whenever I need a shoulder to lean on or a listening ear, they’d be there for me. More than anything, I hope every time I’m done with work, I can come back home with a huge smile on my face. Because no matter how good or bad my day went, the other person would be there. To hold me and embrace me, and to let me know that everything’s gonna be okay. And that I’d be able to do the same thing for the other person too. I’d never stop being grateful for having someone that I can let go of my inhibitions and share my life with. I think it’s so important to never let the materialistic things make you lose sight of the love that you’re surrounded with. To love and to be loved…I’d say that’s a huge part in enjoying life.

Really, above all else, my dreams are that simple. To love what I do, to be successful at what I do, and to be able to share moments of my life with my loves.

I may look back at this post in 10 years and laugh in amusement or whatever, but at least for right now, 19-year-old Ernest feels really strongly about this.

And I have faith that I’ll be able to have all of these, too. I’m gonna hold onto that pure faith and keep working hard. Because I think having faith is beautiful. And that to some extent, to have faith in a beautiful life full of love, is on its own, enjoying life, too.

Holding On To Colours

Eat, work, sleep. Eat, work, sleep.

My life has been fixated to this schedule daily. Counting my paid job out, I’ve been pretty much sedentary, unproductive and…well, lonely.

Which is technically strange, because you’d think being surrounded by kids would add colours to my blank canvas.

It did, for a while. I remember feeling tired at the end of every working day, yet waking up the next day feeling energized and excited to take on whatever was in store for me. I remember looking at the smiles on those kids’ faces, remembering them when you’re at home, and they’d unknowingly bring a smile to my face too. It was great. Things were great.

But lately, more than anything, I’ve been feeling trapped. It’s like I’m developed an immunity towards what used to bring me subtle joy and doses of energy. I’ve found myself desperately counting down till the clock strikes six while I suffer through getting disobedient kids complete their schoolwork, and I’ve come back home after work every single day feeling drained and lethargic, and nothing else.

Thing is, I’d be perfectly okay with all that, if there was a group of friends (maybe even just a single friend) that I can hang out and vent with. Remember those times in high school where you don’t give two hoots about how crazy and obnoxious your surrounding classmates are, because you had that close group of buddies that you simply just click with? And how you’d dedicate much of your time chatting about random stuff, or even let each other in on our darkest secrets and insecurities?

I had that. But now, I don’t even know if we’ll ever be able to cordially sit down and have a cup of coffee and Starbucks anymore. I swear it’s as if drifting apart is the norm for modern day friendships.

Most of my friends are out doing their own thing, hanging out with their respective cliques in university or colleges. Some already have a definite plan sorted out and is just living life as they please. And then there’s me, dreading every single day about callbacks for interviews and whether or not I’ll be able to secure a spot in my ideal university. The thought of actually heading out from the peninsula to the other side of the country for university is wildly daunting. I cannot tell you how much I berate myself every day for filling in a Sarawak university as my second choice for my uni placement…

But I digress. Point is, and I hate to admit it, but this loneliness is kind of eating me up and it sucks. I did mention I’d be okay being alone, but goddamnit, no one in the right mind would ever wish to stay alone and feel lonely till the end of time.

And so I’ve found myself holding on to connections I’ve managed to forge under very random circumstances. It’s gotten to a point where I would cherish them so dearly that it scares me. It scares me to know that this in turn would scare them away because I’m “coming on too strong”. And I never do want to give off that pushy vibe. I don’t want anyone to ever feel pressured. Yet, when you find yourself in a midst of something that feels so right, you naturally hang on to them for dear life, for fear of them slipping away.

My previous post touched on an unlikely encounter that never materialized. Just a few days back, another encounter happened. Only this time, it wasn’t merely a full on crush. Our conversations had substance, and I was really fortunate to have received so much information about work in the media. As a person who aspires to pursue a career in the media, it couldn’t have happened at a more perfect time. Now I know so much more, and I can start think about what exactly I want to accomplish while at that. It’s really piqued my interest and passion to chase after that seemingly elusive career.

But it stretches waaaayyy beyond that. When I say we clicked, I mean it wholeheartedly. Last time I’ve felt the same connection this early on with someone was when I first started chatting with my ex. Not saying this connection is ever going to materialize or be anything beyond what it already is, but when you do find a connection as profound and resounding as this, you’d be a fool to not cherish it.

And cherish it I will. I don’t know if I’m appearing as “coming on too strong”. I don’t know how the other person actually feels about me after two days of messages back and forth, or if my ever present clingy-ness is sensed by the other party. And I’m afraid that this might turn out to be exactly like what happened last time around, despite assurances that it won’t happen. You never really know for sure. But for as long as I get to have this, cherish it I will.

…And you. 对，就是你。If ever by any chance you stumble upon this…thank you. Thank you for adding a few more shades of colour to my canvas. From the bottom of my heart, I really really really do appreciate it. J

I'm Okay With Being Alone

My colleague asked me about something personal while at work this past week, to which I replied honestly and bluntly.

I had an inkling she knew anyway. And she was really sweet about it, just like a caring parent.

One thing she said that did make me uncomfortable was I am more than likely to be alone, possibly till the end of my time. She cited a few of her friends as examples while at that.

Truth be told, at that moment, her words scared the life out of me. It isn’t that I wasn’t aware of similar real-life examples prior to that. Call me naïve, but I’ve always held on to the belief that one day, I’d find the one. It didn’t matter just how different, eccentric and sometimes insufferable I was. I’ve always believed I would. So to think that staying alone would become the story of my life, that had me taken aback.

And it’s not as if I’ve never given that a thought before. In my early teens I’d already pondered about the likelihood of a life-long solitary existence. It’d terrify me deeply. I got so terrified, that I’d do crazy things. Like allowing myself to get involved in sticky situations. And giving the other person waaaayyy more than I probably should have. And continuously putting in one-sided effort in the blind hope of having that feeling be reciprocated.

(Yes, I forked out a huge chunks of my savings to please the other person.)

Eventually I got out of that detrimental mindset and became smart enough to walk away. It was a massive lesson for me, one that I admittedly paid a price too high for. Nonetheless, a lesson learnt is a lesson learnt, and it’s one I’m glad I did. I’m glad I learnt that I don’t NEED to cling onto someone else for dear life in pursuit of happiness. I can be happy and content by loving myself first and foremost.

Years later I’ve found myself in a couple of relationships that were based off of mutual understanding and affection, and from those I’ve had some magical, wonderstruck moments I’ll hold near and dear with me till the end of time. And I’m grateful for them, despite the undesirable endings, because they definitely had a part of my faith in finding love restored.

Just this month, I had an interesting encounter with someone who I thought would be an integral source of my happiness for a good amount of time. I kept my hopes up when my confession was favourably responded to. Holding on to that hope alone had my heart fluttering. But as days went by, mutual affection and caring slowly became a one-sided affair. The flame on the other end died down. I realized said affirmative response meant nothing more than a heat-of-the-moment flirtation to woe me. It really didn’t matter at all. I found myself reverting to old habits, constantly putting forth an effort to display my earnestness when it obviously isn’t reciprocated. For quite a while I felt like a fool who was willing to be a fool (again). And I wasn’t okay with that.

As I am writing this, I can’t begin to describe to you how liberating it is to acknowledge that this spark has ended, and that it’s time to press on. I don’t need to make a fool out of myself to capture someone else’s brief attention in vain. It really isn’t worth it.

And even if I do manage to capture it, it still wouldn’t be worth it. ‘Cause if I’m going to be unhappy trying so hard for someone else, I might as well be happy staying alone.

I’m okay with being alone. I’m glad I can finally tell that to myself. I’m genuinely okay with being alone.

I Don't Want To

I sat at the front of the classroom, facing an entire class of Year 3 students, guiding them on their revision.

My eyelids threatened to shut. My body threatened to shut down. Yawn after yawn escaped from my mouth.

I felt so tired.

I thought he would be all right, up and running in no time. Had so much hope for that as I helped spread the word on Facebook. His brother messaged me and said his thanks, and I gave him so much hope that he’d be okay.

I could only sit down with my mouth agape for a good hour as I arrived at school to that piece of news.

I don’t want to have to endure goodbyes that come way too early. But I understand all of us, at some point in life, would have to experience that.

And if that’s the case, I don’t want to forever linger in the dark, cold and gruesome moments that ever existed in the first place. We are so much more than that, so much more so, that confining oneself to a minute space of misery seems horridly ludicrous.

I don’t want to stumble upon you and constantly wonder about your degree of animosity towards me. I don’t want to have to put a label of an enigma, in bold, on you when we’ve once felt compelled to share our deepest, darkest secrets, with no fear of judgment and consequences. I don’t want to ponder about the possibility of facing your deliberate animosity should I ever decide to strike up a simple “hello”. I don’t want to endure your hostility that radiates ever so strongly whenever we’re having a conversation, ESPECIALLY after an emotionally draining day like this. I don’t want to have to feel like a donkey running around the field headless when I have been trying to figure out what my next step is for the past few months. I don’t want to feel as though you’re questioning my every single step forward, so much so that sometimes I wonder if taking three steps backwards would be a better option.

I know you’re brilliant. I know you’re fucking brilliant. You’re an enigma of a superiority that is jaw-dropping. You’re so many things I could never be and my parents would DIE for me to be. I know all of that. And most of the time, I would be okay with that. I’m done with feeling useless. I’m done with feeling inferior. I’m done with looking at you as though I’m a dwarf looking up at a giant, feeling like my presence is redundant and unnecessary.

And you’re probably  definitely going to read this and go “what a wimp” “you’re dumb and useless” or something of the sort.

I’m done. I want to move on. I WANT to move on.

I feel so tired. I don’t want to. I really don't want to.

SPM Results Day: Just Getting Started

I managed to get a decent amount of sleep considering the circumstances that day. As soon as I woke up and it dawned on me it was judgment day, the grogginess disappeared and I instantly felt the butterflies in my stomach.

All the way through getting ready and heading to the car, I kept on moaning and groaning about how the absolute worst scenario might actually play out for real in less than an hour. I’m sure my incoherent self sounded a whole lot like I was constipating, but I swear, it was entirely involuntary.

“Quit being paranoid,” my twin brother said as we got into the car.

“And what do YOU know about the significance of things?” I cussed inwardly.

Frankly, it’s actually kind of hypocritical of me to say/think that, because I’m not sure I entirely do either. All I knew back then, was that I wanted a clean, otherworldly captivating set of results on my results slip…which, if you don’t know, means getting as many A+ as possible.

I had already heard seniors and uncles and aunts saying things along the lines of “it doesn’t matter, you’ve tried your best”, “you will do well for sure, you’re so smart”, “SPM is not THAT important” etc. But NO. I never bothered really taking those advices. No one knows how horrible my sciences are. No one knows that I didn’t actually prepare for SPM as well as I could have. No one knows that my preparations for certain subjects were so inadequate that I actually ended up cramping the only almost the entire Biology syllabus into my brain within TWO NIGHTS. No one knows how hard it is to nab A+ in language subjects. No one knows that I picked a really unconventional topic for my English essay and that alone was a huge risk. If you don’t know all these nitty-gritty, who are you to say I am guaranteed a splendid result?

And I was extremely insecure. So SO insecure, that I actually went and asked a few of my seniors about their SPM results to get an grasp of how things may pan out. I had this senior who I always thought was really intelligent and eloquent, yet he only scored two A+ in SPM. Just let that settle in, and bearing in mind how paranoid I was back in high school, imagine how that prospect absolutely had me in terror.

Hitz FM was on the radio while my mummy and I were on our way to my school (we had dropped off our brother at his own school), and JJ and Ean were recounting their SPM experiences from some time back. They mentioned about their results, and I thought “HOW DO YOU GUYS SURVIVE WITH ONLY 2As or 3As!!!”

We arrived in school and I held onto my mummy for dear life as we made our way to the basketball to retrieve my results slip. I wasn’t the first one there, so some of my classmates had already gotten their results. 9A+, 8A+, 8A+…they were the top students in class, so their results definitely weren’t a surprise. I prayed silently as I queued up, “PLEASE, DON’T let anything horrible happen…”

The prefect on duty handed me my results slip after I signed my name on the name list. This is it, I thought. Everything that I’ve worked for, it all came down to this. I held as my breath as I laid my eyes on it.

To this day, I still didn’t know how I felt exactly at that instant. I do remember comparing my results with some other top boys, and as I heard more and more of them get at least 7A+s, I felt a little numb, then a surge of dejection washing over me.

I saw smiles everywhere. I faked one, too. Photos were being taken every corner of the court. I made it a point to not be in any of them. Mummy was happy with my results, I straight up told her I was ambivalent.

I just wanted to head home and sulk for the rest of the day.

After group photos and a little bit of catching up, we did just that. I remember being on the phone with a senior on our way back, and he was advising me about how I should plan my next step and all. And that’s when it dawned on me.

“What now?”

…………

If you’re reading this and you’re about to get YOUR results, you can choose to hear me out here.

You can feel confident. (What’s wrong with being confident?) You can just say “fuck it, I don’t care anyway” too.

You can also feel paranoid. You can be absolutely terrified of the fruition of a nightmare. You can be horridly afraid, that you forget how to breathe as you inch closer to judgment time. In my case, if you’ve done consistently well over the course of your five years in high school, you should definitely know what it feels like to have that sort of expectation not just from the people around you, but mostly, yourself.

And it’s okay to be stressed out. You’ve worked goddamned hard to endure a grueling period of time to fulfill your obligation as an examination year student. That alone is a commendable feat.

But remember this, no matter how your results turn out to be, IT IS NOT THE END. You won’t get rich and famous if you nab straight A+, and you won’t be labeled as a failure in life if you don’t get any A+ at all. IT IS NOT THE END.

It took me a full year to realize that I wanted a splendid set of results for SPM to boost my own ego, and that SPM at the end of the day, is so insignificant once you’ve moved on to college or university.

Your life doesn’t stop once you get back home after receiving your results. You still have SO FAR ahead of you.

If you’ve done well, congratulations. Otherwise, commiserations. Either way, learn from this, and take that next big step forward to greater things in life. You’re only just getting started.

Good luck. May the mass times acceleration be with you. :)

Decided after I reached home that my results was worthy of a celebratory photo.

SPM 2013: 6A+, 3A, 1A-.

Fizzled Out

How do things fizzle out in a mere couple of days? Feelings, specifically?

There I was thinking you may be it. Until a couple of days later.

Your messages made me happy...for one day. Beyond that, they kept coming, and I found myself feeling increasingly burdened and annoyed.

And it's ridiculous! Horridly ridiculous. Because all of it felt a whole lot like a terrible nightmare.

I do feel bad. I feel like I was somewhat leading you on, only to desperately want to shrug you off like a big dirtbag.

I instantly thought of a line from the prologue from Red that really resonated with me.

"...you saw sparks that weren’t really there, felt stars aligning without having any proof, saw your future before it happened, and then saw it slip away without any warning..."

A spark it was exactly. Only this time wasn't like last time. This lasted less than what felt like a minute.

Maybe I'll find it one day. Maybe I'll come across an ember that ignites and lasts for a good while. One that leaves my heart racing even after what feels like forever.

For now...I'll consider this a lesson learnt.

"Oh hi"

“Oh hi”

You appeared out of nowhere with a greeting so casual and effortless, that it almost seemed intimidating.

This shouldn’t have happened. It was meant to just be a tap on my phone screen, period. Nothing should have entailed as it normally wouldn’t.

But it did. You did.

And my heart is left palpitating with trepidation, a first since a confession that was misinterpreted as platonic admiration.

Which is crazy, because we’re technically miles and miles apart, and none of these would ever materialize. One would be foolish to ever consider the possibility of it materializing.

But one can always hope either.

This may turn out to be merely a phase…but god do I fervently wish it isn’t.

I don’t know what is going to happen. I’m not sure if I want to, either. The questions keep lingering, yet no answers might ever come to them.

I’ll just let go and LET things happen on their own, I guess.

Meanwhile…

Oh…hey. :)