This life is way too short to get caught up in all this stuff

With the disappearance of MH370, the sinking of the S. Korean ferry and the posthumous publication of Marina Keegan’s essays (which I’ve yet to get my hands on), I understand the fragility of life more than ever. I guess maybe that’s why lately I’ve just been doing whatever I feel like doing, and trying not to get mad over little things.

The past few weeks have been great – jam-packed with assignments/events/gatherings with friends. I catch myself thinking at times that I am exhausted, but I feel as though I’m not tired enough…like I want to push myself to the brink and use up all my potential. That sounds kind of masochistic…

I think a famous person once said that he didn’t read trashy novels/magazines in case it was the last thing he was ever caught reading. On a trip to Kino last weekend WL was surprised when I stopped to flip through ‘Lean In : For Graduates’  (Sheryl Sandberg!) and ‘Thrive’ by Arianna Huffington.

 

“Huh since when do you read such books?” she asked. Uh, since a long time ago. I may not look the type, but I’ve been reading books classified under self-help/leadership for some time now. The motivation I get from reading such books fades after awhile, which might explain my lack of achievement in any field…which might explain why my friend didn’t think I’d read  ’em. 

I was also asked yesterday if I read books often, and which genre…the thing is, if you were queuing behind me at Kino and happened to glance at my purchases, you might be a little confused.

Sometimes I might buy just my usual magazines : Seventeen, Teen Vogue, Glamour. You might proceed to dismiss me as an airhead. But to justify my reading choices, there are actually articles on female empowerment in these mags. It’s not all about make-up and pretty clothes and how to snag a guy. The interviews with celebs also serve to inspire me. 

Then once in awhile you might catch me buying YA novels, like Divergent or something by John Green. Pretty normal teen, you’d think. & then on another day, it might be something by Dawkins, or a book on Keynes and Hayek, or I am Malala, for example.

So it was difficult for me to  reply. I did actually know which was the last book I read, but it happened to be a silly light-reading choice and I didn’t want to sound like it was my go-to genre, though I think it’s what most people would assume about me. (For the sake of being honest – it was ‘It’s Not You: 27 (Wrong) Reasons You’re Single)

My all-time favourite authors/books have remained the same : Carlos Ruiz Zafon, Thomas Mann, Paolo Giordano’s The Solitude of Prime Numbers, David Nicholls, David Mitchell’s Cloud Atlas…John Green…

*missing an ‘O’

I don’t wanna be all talk and no action, so lately I’ve also been thinking about HfH and wondering if I should go ahead with it this year. I’ve always wanted to, but for the wrong reasons, I think. It’s always popped up as a way for me to escape – and it was always because I was angry at the world for not seeing me the way I wanted to be seen.

But now I think that I should only do it when I’m absolutely comfortable with who I am and confident in my own skin. & I feel like I’m getting there. I haven’t gotten more compliments or anything, and this is not meant to sound narcissistic, but lately when I look at my photos and my own reflection I think that I’m alright. I feel pretty. Even if others don’t tell me that I am. & that’s the attitude I need, if I’m gonna go ahead with HfH.

I don’t know where you’re going, but do you got room for one more troubled soul?

& so, just like that, my very first semester in college is over.

Had a bit of a rough start but I think I’ll pull through. Was just remembering the people from poly that day and felt angry thinking about them. Then I realised that by making myself miserable all the time, I’m letting them win. So I vowed to become a happier person. It’s not gonna happen overnight, I know. I may lapse back into self-pity mode any moment. But they can’t win. 

I guess people might question why I’m usually so open about my fears and problems, to the point where it might come across as annoying …FB friends would know. A friend asked why my statuses are always so ‘doom-&-gloom’…I tend to be rather extreme sometimes. Eh well. But I admire Demi Lovato for coming clean about her issues, because her vulnerability makes her all the more real, and so I strive to be like that too. I mean, I’m not gonna go about announcing this and that, but if people ask, then I’ll tell them. 

Someone else told me that if academic concerns are my only worries then I’m really fortunate. & I suppose that is true. I feel guilty because I haven’t made the time for my grandma and I haven’t gone for any Mercy Relief clansmen workshops since school started. It’s not even that I’m busy, it’s just that I have my own demons to battle when it comes to expectations and reality. Expectations : life is gonna be smooth-sailing, I’m gonna get decent grades and a nice guy will finally like me back. Reality : absolute opposite. 

Right now I feel relatively at peace with myself. Why am I such a masochist…always beating myself up over not being good enough, crying over getting 60 something when people in the Philippines are crying over the destruction of their homes and the loss of their loved ones. Reading the newspaper report on how many Singaporeans wanted to volunteer made me realise that I have the chance to do something many others want to do but might not have the training to. Granted, I’ve not been the most active MR volunteer, but I have accompanied them once…perhaps after some more training and actual volunteer work in a less-developed country. 

I guess that I’ve placed the idea of finding love on the backburner for now. It wouldn’t be healthy if I were to enter a relationship without having sorted out my own issues first. I’m a work-in-progress. Besides, there’s no guy who is interested in me anyway, as usual, and vice versa. Maybe someday. Maybe never. Whatever. 

Trying to find myself again is much more important…after going for lectures by AC Grayling and Mohsin Hamid, I felt a lot more inspired. Perhaps one day I’ll write something and fulfill that childhood dream of becoming an author. It would be sad to watch that dream die. When Mohsin Hamid talked about books being like dance partners for us, and that they were half-written, in the sense that it was up to the reader to interpret and complete the book for him/herself, I remembered how beautiful words could be. How could I ever have thought that I could like someone who doesn’t read fiction? 

 

 

Anyway, I shouldn’t give up so easily. Things are probably gonna get better soon.