- proud
- mean
- ambitious
- a hypocrite
- narcissistic
- weird
- impatient
- hot-tempered
- rude
- critical
- selfish
- lazy
- eccentric

Is it too late for me to change my negative traits?

Thank you for standing by me. If you think you deserve my gratitude, you probably do, so thank you again. I guess even the worst people have friends.

The reason why God created good people was so bad people like me wouldn’t be too lonely.

It’s the musician vanity, as explained by the scriptwriter of Beethoven Virus who has finally nailed it and unravelled this puzzle thereby enlightening this one extremely vain musician.

Maybe the reason why people are unwilling to pay for concert tickets are because there is an increasing number of substandard musicians who deem themselves pro-standard which leads them to believe they have the ability to perform for money. They can play in parks, on sidewalks or anywhere they want but why must a musician insist on playing on a stage?

It’s vanity, I tell you. And vanity like all other undesirable traits is twisted and although one knows it should be given up on and thrown far away, none is willing to.

I’m not, is anyone?

I don’t know why I like it so much. I don’t feel extremely elated nor excited but there’s this feeling of calmness within me. When I tell my friends it’s my favourite time, they smile and ask me if it’s because of all the presents. I pause and think for a little while. The presents are just incentives but If it were because of presents I would love my birthday more. Mathematically, presents don’t make Christmas lovelier than my birthday.

I think it’s because weeks before Christmas everybody is getting ready for it. One can smell the feeling of Christmas, the tingle of the excitement saturating the air and leaving no room for hatred. Everyone is finally thinking of someone else and less of themselves because there’s this need to get gifts for others on this day of giving. I guess having the air filled with love and less of hatred and the stench of ego makes me like Christmas so much.

In the end, it’s all about the love, though my only dream for Christmas is for it to be white.

“That’s our lot in life. It’s not a lot, but it’s our life.” – Queen, A Bug’s Life (1998)

It’s officially Teacher’s Day here in Singapore, and the quote from Manny in A Bug’s Life is just too appropriate for me to miss documenting about it. It’s a wonder how I managed to get to where I am now, being a music teacher, being a musician and being able to perform on the bigger stages when I’ve been a failure all my life.

I don’t think there’s even one thing I’ve done right in my entire life. It sounds very depressing and wrong when I pen it but there’s really a certain amount of truth when I say that. Even where I’m standing in my profession, contrary to what everyone says, I’m not even remotely good in music. Not the slightest, and I dismiss all praise as hypocrisy, flattery or just plain ignorance. Whenever I hear praise, I can’t help but go red because all I see and hear out of my performance, if it even constitutes as one, is a joke. A seasoned professional wouldn’t even bat an eyelid to my performance, tap their foot nor would they sway ever the slightest to the music I make. The only movement they would make is to cover their ears with their hands and yell “Stop!”. No, no, not an ounce of this is humility, I assure everyone around me. This is nothing, nothing but the truth. Cold and hard just like it always is. I can’t speak of anything else other than music because I have nothing else to speak of. I guess having nothing else to speak of really shows the extent of failure in my life.

I’m a failure because I’m a failure in the only thing I do.

Nevertheless, I smile at my own failure because I’ve making a living out of it. I’m self-sufficient to say the least and even though I know I am a failure, everyone else thinks otherwise and just believes in me. I’m not saying the rest are fools but I guess they just have really low expectations of me and I’m certainly not complaining. I’m just embarrassed sometimes because I wonder if these people actually know they are not looking at the truth when they are looking at me. Sometimes I just want to scream that I’m a lie and a hoax and make everyone believe, accept and still love me for being such a stupid failure. I think if I were to do that, everyone would just brush it off at first but after the thought starts manifesting in them, they’ll start to see the light and I guess everyone would just scorn at my presence then.

I think the only people who really knows I’m such a failure are my family members. They may shake their heads, speak up for me and deny it, but only they know the amount of truth within. I guess that’s what makes family members so special because they never ever want to believe or admit that their sister, child, brother or parents have been such a failure. As for me, I’m a lucky girl because I never have to entertain such conflicting thoughts since my family members are just lovely and definitely far from being failures.

Oh well, I’ve started a new chapter of my life and even though the starting is not oh-so-glamourous, at least this time I may not fail. I’m working hard even though it doesn’t seem like I am to others, but like I said, the best I can be is really just this much. Even though it may seem like another dent in my life wouldn’t make much of a difference, I really want this to work out and I’m working very hard, planning and hoping to unfold another chapter with lots of effort.

This seems like a depressing post although it has no amount of depression within. It’s just all very paradoxical but I guess too much failure ultimately all adds up nicely to make some kind of success. At the very least, I managed to fool all, if not most of the people around me.

That’s my lot in life. It’s not a lot, but it’s my life.

I’m getting lost in all my emotions of happiness, depression, confusion, anger and being tickled. To sum all these up, I guess I’m jaded. Right now I’m trying to catch hold of these emotions one by one. Trying catch them by their wispy tails and feeling through them.

Ahh, I just caught anger. It’s within me again. This anger is different from the one I feel before. It’s wanting to burst out of me. The feeling is most prominent at my forehead. I can visualise the anger pouring out of my forehead and temples like a volcanic eruption. It spurts out like an acidic and burning inferno, leaving nothing in its path. Eradicating those I have such hatred for in a violent swipe, torturing them with the pain they inflict on me a thousand fold. They scream and writhe as they understand I have no need to endure their mind-wrenching nonsense. Depression comes as a side dish to anger. Like wasabi to sashimi. I hate wasabi.

Tickles come in the form of silly actions of mine and sms-es today. Like mashed potatoes! I love mashed potatoes!

Happiness is harder to catch. It slips through my fingers as it makes me a little light headed. It loves a game of hide-and-seek. I’m having a little headache as my soul turns and distorts itself trying to catch a wisp of happiness. It’s very ironic, but my mind wrenches as if someone is squeezing the water out of a wet cloth. The hands of happiness toys with my brains as I try to capture it. It twists and squeezes my brains. I can visualise the membranes of my brains being squeezed and twisted so tightly they turn transparent and you can see it almost threatening to pop and spilling brain juice all over the place. Okay, I give up trying to capture happiness. I’m not about to clean up my table that has been messed up with my brain juice, thank you very much. I guess I’ll feel happier with happiness feeling happier being free and not toying with my brains.

Confusion swims past my eyes as I look at my white female mouse that eats only money. You ask how I know it’s female. It has blusher and eyelashes, matter-of-factly pointed out by a friend, as opposed to the grey mouse that has no blusher nor eyelashes. I’m confused because the mouse looks confused. Confusion sends a shiver up my spine, through my teeth and up till the tip of my head. It’s not the same kind of shiver you feel when you’re afraid or anxious. It’s the kind of confused shiver that makes you want to grind your teeth with confusion. She looks at me and I’m wondering when she’ll open her already open mouth and ask me when I’m going to feed her, with money of course. I’m confused because I don’t know if I should keep my money in my wallet or feed the mouse with it. I’m confused because the mouse has one ear that’s bigger than the other, and to take money out of it I’ll have to wrench her head off. Oooh, violent!

I guess I could use my time more wisely like sleeping instead of catching emotions at an ungodly hour of 0130.

Well, I was never known for my wisdom.

Good people die early. That’s what I believe. The world is an evil place, and those most holy and saint would leave this place of utter horror to join those in paradise, to rest in the arms of our Father in eternity. So many have left before us to join those above in praise and joy. We can weep, but should not grieve. Our tears mark their place on this earth and the place in our hearts. The sorrow is temporary, and we should rejoice that they have left this place devoid of true love to bask in it in eternity. They have done what they were sent to accomplish, and are now rewarded with the Father’s approving eyes gazing shiningly upon them.

How much courage or folly does a person have to say they want to live one more day? Sure, that day may bring happiness. Or sorrow so great the heart tears and rips but nevertheless stays in one piece. Pumping the agony through every inch of one’s body. How prepared are we to face the new day? As the sun rises, it brings hope. But never forget the sun always has to set to give way to the dark and cold night, with the only thing illuminating our hearts: the hope that the sun rises once again. And it will.

Living one more day than you.

That’s selflessness.

I’m studying again! And most euphoric part? I’M STUDYING PSYCHOLOGY!

I don’t even know why I’m looking forward to being able to study again. I can’t even begin to recall how I absolutely detested studying. I even detest the thought of me thinking about studying! In years to come, if people were to re-label the seven deadly sins, they would be gluttony, pride, greed, jealousy, wrath, lust and RACHEL. That’s how sloth-like I am.

BEWARE! I am a deadly sin!

I think it’s because teaching is starting to bore me. And the most important part is I’m finally getting to study something I’ve really liked ever since I was born (it’s just a figurative expression so let’s not get airy-fairy over such insignificant phrases). I don’t know how I’m going to survive the studying process again but I’m hoping I’ll suddenly have the zeal to study. It’s not stupid because that’s almost the same thing as those people buying a lottery ticket and hoping a huge amount of cash will just fall from the sky. Huge enough to crush their homes, they fervently pray. Moreover I don’t want money! I just want to love studying (hyperventilates at the thought)!

Maybe it’s because I’m going to study psychology. *pops the champagne!* I can’t control my excitement! This week has been a pretty hectic week with all the teaching and helping out with Ah Po’s funeral which means having to stay over at the void deck of their house and not sleeping for 2 sessions of 48 hours! I should be drained and highly irritated but apparently I’m still in high spirits albeit being a little confused with my mental and physical states. I’ve been waiting for SIM University’s reply for so long, praying and hoping I’ll get a positive reply. When I finally received the letter telling me I was accepted I was momentarily confused. Then the bubble of euphoria grew and expanded and filled my entire existence. Since I was so happy, I went around announcing an apparently insignificant news to everyone and they all said exactly the same thing:

It suits you. Psychotic people study psychology.

What is this?! I don’t deny that I show some signs of high-ness and insanity at certain times but something is very wrong when everyone views you in the same psychotic way. Family members, friends and even acquaintances! I seriously need to rethink my life. But aren’t people like me extremely indispensable and in want? We bring joy and excitement to everyone’s life! And to quote Charlie Bartlett’s t-shirt, “People like you are the reason why people like me need medication”. So in actual fact, everyone else is the problematic one. Not me.

This is an extremely redundant post which does not serve to document any bit of the excitement in me at all! It’s too hard to materialise and pack those teeny bits of excitement into one big ball that I can feel and keep with me forever. It’s like a beautiful reflection in the water. The moment I touch it, it disappears into ripples.

I wonder how long I can swim in such euphoria before someone bursts my bubble and sends me back to reality.

*Here’s a shout out to Jason (or whoever) from Giz! I’m sorry I have no tech related posts but it doesn’t show my lack of passion for gadgets! I just, err, choose not to blog about it!

谢谢你肯澄清这一切。

其实，我也并没有很想介入你的私事。如果慧敏和你没有扯上任何关系的话，老实说，我们也不会那么在意。对于你家庭的事，我们根本没想过要得知或干涉什么。一直以来我们只想知道对于你健康方面的事。

起初听到你说要动手术，我们大家的确很担心。但当整件事越变越大时，我们不得不怀疑这直是一场骗局。你说的对，没人应该这么无聊，但我也曾经经历过这样的事，甚至比你的更严重，更夸张。这也证明了这世上的确有这么无聊的人。我也不明白为何需要做这种事。或许只有编制谎言的人才会知道吧。每个人偶尔都会说说谎，这我理解，但如果是滥用朋友的信任而使他们为了只是一个骗局而担心，这我无法忍受。

老实说，虽然你今天所给我的交代非常透彻，但我得告诉你，我还是无法完全的相信你。我也希望你了解，我之前所经历的事已经让我有所自我保护。你可能真的患有一些疾病，可是他们真的如你所说这么严重吗？一点夸大的成分都没有吗？我没有办法从你所给的证明看出来。我们也有怀疑过你可能有其他的事是骗我们的。虽然我不能说那些事的可靠性对我们来说不重要，可是怎么说那些也只是关系到你，是你的私事，我们也不便多做评论。我们只想知道的是你到底有没有用你的健康，编制任何谎言或添油加醋来博取大家的同情，引起大家的担心。

我希望你了解，我不能与一个性格上有问题的人做朋友。而能够运用健康来博取同情的人，人格非常的有问题。将心比心，如果有一天你发现你的好朋友做了一件这么可耻的事，你会如何做呢？或许你也能说你不能和一个不信任你的人做朋友。但如果是我的话，我一定用尽我全力去证明我的清白，并反省为什么自己会落到这样的处境。如果我知道我不能和朋友坦白一切，那我根本就不会提起任何自己的问题使朋友担心。

冰冻三尺非一日之寒。我不得不承认，在这件事之前，我已经开始了解你，并对于你的人格做了一些评论。虽然及不上坏，但也及不上好。你应该了解每个人对于朋友的要求，而很不幸，再某一些方面你的确表现的不是很理想，也可能因此让你面临到朋友不信任你的一个局面。至于你所说的 “当我们是十分要好的朋友”，是你 “生活圈子以内不可缺少的一部分”， 我们真的有所保留。虽然你口里是这么说的，但我们不是这么想或觉得的。我们之间也曾讨论过我们在你心目中作为朋友的地位，而得到的结论很不幸的并不乐观，也是叫人伤心的。我不是什么圣人，自己也曾做过后悔的事，所以不应该以这样的量器量你。但人毕竟还是血肉之躯，往往也是无法控制自己的想法。做为朋友本该互相体谅，所以我也没有对于这些事给于任何评论。如果你也曾为我的人格或我所造成的事忍气吞声，也要在此谢谢你。

对于你和慧敏之间的事，如果你能说出这样的话，未免也太不付责任了。你怎么能说是你情我愿呢？日久情深你应该听说过吧？在一对男女之间，哪一对没有问题？但如果你明知道她已经有了男友还处处与她碰面，你不觉得这样的行为很有问题吗？我们也很难从我们的脑海中檫去你曾经在Jason面前的表情与行为，实在是伪君子的作风。可能我们之间的价值观有所差别吧。然而，你说的没错，慧敏都这么大了，应有她自己的选择权。我们只是以她的朋友给于她忠诚的劝告。正如我所说，倘若你的性格真的有问题，我不希望以后她可能会受到伤害。我必须强调一点：我们绝对不会以我们与她的友情做为离开你的筹码。只是整件事非常的复杂，又在这种情况下发生，短期之间我们无法接受。或许你能说在整件事中，感情应该只是两个人的事，我们不该多管闲事。但如果亲眼看见朋友将可能掉进陷阱也不说话或表明立场的话，那我会很看不起这个人。

总的来说，你所给于的解释我接受，但对于你给的证明实在无法让我相信你病态的严重性。如果你认为我在污蔑你的话，我恳请你把最有利的证明拿出来。但我也希望如果你曾说过任何谎言，或把任何事情夸大来描述，你能够勇于承认自己的过错。至少我知道你的人依然值得我的友谊，值得我去尊敬。

我要让你知道我打从心里真的很想相信你，所以请你给我一个强力的理由再次信任你。我很希望这次是我错误的判断。这么多年的朋友，我也很希望自己当初没有看走眼。

若这次真是我糊涂，下了错误的判断，我在此向你敬上我最大的歉意。

Rachel启

Whether my reply is heartfelt or not, even I don’t hold the answer.

It tears my heart apart whenever I hear her say that. I can almost hear it ripping.

“Till you get better”, I always lie through my teeth.

I know it’s a lie. I know it. And I can’t do a single thing about it. Sure, I can visit her. But that’s not what she wants. She thinks it’s unnecessary and meaningless. She doesn’t understand why she’s staying in the nursing home. She hates it. I hate seeing her in this state. I blame myself for not earning enough. I don’t earn enough and that’s why I cannot buy her a house and hire a personal nurse for her. It’s my fault.

But it’s not my fault. She’s my grandmother. And I’m only 20. What can I do in such circumstances? What are my parents doing? What are my aunt and uncles doing? I ask myself why she’s in this state now. Why does she live in a nursing home? None of us are poor. All of us can afford to have her living under our roofs. Yes, she may be ill, but it’s nothing critical. She can definitely return home. So, why?

My parents don’t know, but I secretly blame them. I know my aunt and uncles should have done more and it’s definitely true that they have the space to house her while we have none. But love is not about asking why others can’t do it but asking what one can do for others. I’ve volunteered to give up my room for grandma. I know my parents love me, they want me to have my private space. But they don’t know how much I would have given to let grandma stay in my room.

I wonder how much guilt I would have to go through when she leaves me forever.

The last time I went to visit her, I had to leave while they bathed her and the others. I explained I had to leave for a while and I’ll be back shortly. And as the nurses pulled the blinds across and cut her vision of me, I could hear her calling for me to stay. I could hear how much she didn’t want to let me go. It’s too hard to put the feelings of pity and sadness into exact words of that time. Too painful would summarise it.

I don’t want to regret and live in guilt in future. Regret that I didn’t do anything for my grandmother while she’s still with me. I don’t want my parents to regret either. As I hold her hand, my heart rips. I hear her voice asking me when she can come home, my heart bleeds. I look at her in old age, my heart breaks. She’s separated from her family when all she wants is to look at her children and grandchildren when she wakes up. I don’t understand why it is so hard for adults to feel her pain and understand her deepest desires. Has she given up so much in her younger years for all of them only to earn a place in a nursing home?

Hypocrites, I whisper. All the talk about love when there’s none. Talk to the wall, for you have no sympathy nor interest from me for your excuses and your ‘predicaments’. And while you are at it, may I suggest that you knock your head against the wall with all the force you can muster for your absolute lack of filial piety. “She’s sick!”, you protest loudly like an empty vessel would. “Whatever helps you sleep at night”, I scorn.

At this point, I hate myself for not being able to help. I want to punch something. There’s this anger within me. Sympathy snakes around me. I feel like I’m suffocating. There’s so much I want to do but I can do absolutely nothing. The mental pain drives me crazy. I want to cry, but the anger quells my tears. It swallows my tears. My head aches. Imaginarily. I scream, silently, but there are still echoes that ricochet within my body like bullets.

I don’t want to live a life without having held my grandma’s hand. I want something to remember her by.

As she lays on the bed looking at me and me at her, I’m falling into the abyss of pain and insanity.

I’m going to buy her something. Something she can relate to while she’s suffering under the roof of a nursing home devoid of love while I’m sleeping in my air-conditioned room filled with material possessions and basking in love. Oh the irony! But I’ll ignore what those hypocrites say. I’ll ignore all their useless questions. I want to make her happy. I’m painfully aware it’s never enough love to give or happiness she’ll feel. She has no material or physical possessions anymore. She doesn’t have money. She has no emotional possessions either. No love, no happiness. Only emotional liabilities like the pain of having her children put her up in a nursing home, and the pain of not being able to be with her children and grandchildren. And the best thing I can do now to ease these liabilities would be to buy her a stuffed toy. Pathetic, my conscience chants. And it’s pathetically true how pathetic I sound. But there’s nothing more I can do.

When they go, you can cry. You can wish you had done something more.

But you can never turn back time.

After Brendan’s concert today, I went to dinner with Papa, Mummy and Clarence. As I was eating, I witnessed a person with down syndrome, celebrating the birthday of her grandmother. I can’t be sure of her age, since she’s with down syndrome, but my guess would be around 15-25. She was holding to this transparent plastic box which are used for packing kuehs, and inside was a single slice of cake. It was obvious the cake was cheap, most probably from a stall in the food court. There was a single lighted candle in the cake as she brought it to the table her grandmother was at. I wanted to take a picture of them but I didn’t. Wanted to freeze this moment of immense love but I couldn’t. We left the food court approximately the same time as them, and as we left, I saw her holding onto a stalk of rose, presumably for her grandmother.

This simple action of the girl holding onto the slice of cake and walking towards her grandmother almost brought time to a standstill. It’s like a scene on television where everything moves at half the speed. That was the exact feeling I had as she was walking past. The look of innocence on her face, the joy, the love. And as the candlelight flickered away, you could almost see the life of these two people flash past. The love binding the relationship between a granddaughter and her grandmother. How much further they have gone in life as compared to anyone in that time and situation, to dedicate their lives to one another. That is how much they would go to show their love.

There’s just too much pain in this simple action of seeing someone with such a disability performing such a sweet act. It tears my heart apart because I want it so much just to go forward and buy them a big cake. Something both of them love. A chocolate cake maybe. Buy them so much food they’ll have to ask me to stop. Buy gifts for the grandmother and the girl to show them they have other people besides themselves who love them. Hug and kiss them. Get their contact number and maybe their address so I can do a part in loving and taking care of them.

Maybe the reason why I feel so bad is because I’m disappointed with my lack of courage to do this. Disappointed with my lack of love. Disappointed that these are only thoughts that will never materialise. If actions speak louder than words, are worth a thousand words, then all these useless thoughts are nothing more than the dirt that everyone steps beneath their feet. Worthless. Unhelpful. Meaningless.

All I hope and pray is for God’s blessing to be upon them in every single step of their lives. Although that is of no use, no help and no act of love on my part, God’s blessing is the best thing anyone can receive. It doesn’t make me feel any less remorseful, but I hope they will be blessed forever until they return to the house of the Lord, where I’ll sincerely apologise for my act of selfishness.

A slice of cake, a candle, a stalk of rose. A multitude of love in eternity.

That is how much I would go for all those I love.

And I pray I would learn to go this far for strangers one day.