On attachment to things

I used to be one of these people who are excessively attached to things for no apparent reason. In high school, I had trouble tossing my books for the year just passed, so they accumulated in the basement for the longest time. About 10-15 years later, I was the one who tossed them into the recycling bin; should have done that like 10 years ago.

I used to do the same with my computer files. I used to be one of these people who are crazy about back up. Then I realise that it is not important to back up everything. There are some things that need back up. But there are things that are not that important. So really, why bother.

I used to get irrationally attached to all my clothes/shoes/bags. This is perhaps the silliest attachment of all, given that I didn't wear a lot of them for various reasons. So I let go of all of the ones that I don't wear and/or don't love any more. It was very liberating and I do that on a regular basis now.

The only thing I don't really get attached to are people. Since a very early age, I accepted that people come and go and none of them really stay in my life for a long long time. There are a few who are kind, loving and understanding and are always around when I need them most, but that's about it, really. Most people come back and forth, drift from one spot to another. Sometimes our paths cross and we got together. I have very few people that I miss constantly. I miss various people in little bits and pieces every now and then.

The same thing happens with places that I have stayed in. I have moved so often in my life that I don't care where I live any more insofar it is nice and comfortable. I don't miss particular apartments that much. I don't miss places that much. I just focus on enjoying where I happen to live at the moment.

I think a lot of what we are attached to are not necessarily things that we place a lot of value and importance to. It might just be by accident. Or maybe, laziness. Letting go is a lot easier once we have made the decision to do so. In fact, I cannot imagine my life any other way these days.

Have a great weekend!

Breathless, but relieved

Believe me when I say that there are a lot of things in my life that I would like to share and just can't bring myself to share them.

I stepped into the elevator to go home today and caught my reflection in the mirror. I liked what I saw. I especially liked my hair colour. I asked my hairdresser to lighten it up about a month ago. My mind drifted back to the very first time I colour my hair. I did not have an expectation as to what it was going to be like. I did not really choose the colour - my hairdresser at the time did (he was brilliant!!). I had a hair cut and walked away with chocolate hair with orange streaks. Perhaps not that orange, but it was orange enough in my eyes at the time.

Sometimes I think I just forget to grow up.

Bits and pieces of my life serve as constant reminders that I am fast approaching my thirties. Yet deep inside I feel like I am still that 17 years old girl who started her first year in college being so clueless about life. I remember feeling so young, so naive and I remember telling myself to grow up. I still feel the same way today. Maybe I just never grew up.

Sometimes it feels like my whole life is one long dream, one that I never want to wake up from.

I exercised the notion of dreaming a lot as a way to escape reality. The reality that my parents were getting a divorce and mum worked herself up to the extent that it was a sin to be happy around her. I wanted to be happy so desperately, but I could not share that with her. Growing up, I thought I was estranged from her. That experience certainly sealed the deal.

I can no longer pretend that we are one happy family. We are not a happy family.

In my dreams, we take family vacations every year and we chat to each other every day. In my dreams, we have this invincible bond that is thicker than blood. In my dreams, we actually like each other.

These days, I dream differently.

I dream about reliving my college days.

I dream about being this person I forgot to be.

I dream about being myself.

Write it like it is

I have been thinking quite a lot lately about what I write. And the catalyst is that (a) I see a lot fantastic writing each and every day and (2) if I am blogging more consistently, as what my intent has been ever since I write this blog, then I'd like for my writing to be better over time. Whether it is actually showing signs of improvement or not is not up to my judgement. I judge my performance in a professional context and when it comes to nurturing a hobby like this, I prefer not to judge. Yes, I know that I get judged all the time by whoever is reading this - and it is fine. I have a thick skin. I get criticised a lot, people dislike me because of what I write, etc etc etc.

I want my writing to be an honest exercise. I want to write about anything that captures my attention like it actually is, not some polished version that is intended to please someone. Or in other words, I write it like it is. In the past I got into trouble because of this, and I stopped for a while. Then I became one of those who had difficulty listening to their own voices. So one day, in an attempt to listen to myself a lot more, I thought, screw everybody and I am just going to do whatever I see fit. Honest writing fits the bill perfectly. This is the world from my keyboard.

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I was born privileged. My parents were materially blessed and we have more than enough to sustain us. I grew up in a small town in Indonesia and went to a school where I was labelled as one of the rich kids. My school fee was the most expensive in the year!! (School fees differed from one student to the next in those years.) I was driven to school in my dad's car, and he hired a driver for us for that purpose. The same driver and the same car would pick me up from school and back home, where I would have my lunch before I was driven again somewhere for some extracurricular activities. I hated the scouts by the way, I really did not see why I should march in lines and cook with wood when I had gas stoves and the microwave. I was never into camping, so that sort of explained my aversion to the scouts' activities.

I never quite felt like I belonged there. As far as I can remember, I always felt out of place. Or maybe I was just being one of those spoilt brats who was always wanting more and more. My childhood was far from perfect by the way - for starters, I have an older sister who is perpetually jealous of me. You know when people have older siblings and they are close - well, our relationship is not like that. This made me think that if I do ever decide to have a kid, I think I would just have one, so that he/she can have everything without having to deal with having this person who is perpetually jealous of him/her.

Growing up, I saw poverty in front of my eyes. Our house was much nicer than the houses that my classmates live in, but theirs felt warmer, there was always people around and they had companionship. This was something we never have at home - there was hardly anyone ever visiting. This was perhaps attributed to the fact that our house was located on the other side of town and our neighbours generally kept to themselves. I don't know. I remember thinking that the concept of wealth is relative. I was too young to understand money, or rather, the power of money, but I remember thinking I prefer living in a small house that is warm than a mansion that is empty and cold. The best scenario is probably a mansion that is warm - but I am not sure I'd like to live in a mansion. This is why I live in an apartment today, and I make sure that I fill it with love. Lots of love.

I never quite appreciated having options for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I remember complaining that I don't like the food and that I prefer to eat other things. I remember getting into trouble because of that - for a good reason too, I was an ungrateful little brat. These days, if I don't like what I am eating (almost never), I just don't eat it and pretend I am not hungry. I wish I had the same restrain when I was younger, then I would have gotten into less trouble. This is why I don't really do dinner invitations where I have no say in the restaurant and/or food that is prepared or served. I appreciate people who want to cook for me, but really, I prefer to cook it the way I want to. The idea of having to pretend I am not hungry when I actually am is annoying to me.

I am one of the lucky ones. I am grateful for what I have right now. I have a really good life. I want to make the most of this opportunity and I'd like to do it on my terms. I think this fortune means nothing if I cannot have the freedom to live life the way I see fit. I also think I don't need to justify my preferences to anyone ever. I don't think I need to even explain myself at all. I am willing to share my journey, and I realise that this would be an avenue for those who want to judge me; so be it.

Something painful to share

I came across Yashar yesterday morning. In case you have not worked it out, Yashar is a man. I don't know what makes him able to write what he writes on the blog, but I do find myself having to constantly remind myself that this is a man writing these whole thing. How a man manages to attain such understanding on women and what it is like being a woman is something that is beyond my comprehension.

My first taste of Yashar is his article here in which I learnt a new term gaslighting. I never knew such a thing existed until I read Yashar (yes, I know, I am pretty ignorant) and I scrolled down quickly through the comments to find that lots of people were sharing their experiences being the receiving end of this phenomenon. I call that, quite simply, emotional manipulation.

I have been the subject of emotional manipulation by my own mother ever since I was young. I have a crappy memory about my childhood but everything that I manage to remember as a child that involved my mother has always been nasty. I don't remember feeling good being around that woman. And this is after learning that as human beings we are preconditioned to remember the good things more than the bad things (the rosy retrospection bias). I don't even want to think about how terrible I used to feel around my mother if what I remember right now are the relatively good things.

My parents got divorced sometime back and in the years leading to the finalisation of the divorce were the years that I started realising how much emotional manipulation my mother engaged in. She practised it to everyone and anyone she came across, and in particular to me, since according to her, I was my father's favourite. Needless to say, I was manipulated for a while, before I came to my senses and realised that this was just wrong - no matter how hard I tried to justify it. There was no justification at all. I spent the subsequent years fighting off her attempts of emotional manipulation, but I was still manipulated because I was unable to feel good about myself. I was constantly upset and angry as a result of her tricks.

Life was just so hard. I thought about my friends who looked forward to going home and enjoying the weekend and doing whatever else that they do with their families - I never had the opportunity to do that. The rest of the time that I was not at school or at work, well, I just spent it doing something else on my own, mostly studying. I avoided my mother because I did not want to give her another chance to emotionally manipulate me. I avoided my sister for the same reason. I never quite boil it down to these, but lately I realised that they were manipulating me and of course, currently denying it (which confirms the manipulation) - and here is the deal: I have had enough.

I have had enough of pretending that I like you when I don't like you. I have had enough of pretending that life is great and everything is fantastic between us when we have so many issues that we cannot even discussed - especially when you don't even want to hear what I have to say. I have had enough of you dismissing whatever I feel as something wrong. I have had enough dealing with your side of the family telling me that my choices in life are wrong.

I am a child of divorce and I know that fact. My parents are not bad people because they are divorced. You are a bad person because you emotionally manipulated me (and still do). You are a bad person because you said you are sorry, but you are in fact, not genuinely sorry. Actions speak louder than words.

All my life, I wanted to feel loved by you. I wanted you to put me first for once. I wanted you to think about me first - the way parents usually think about their children, especially when they need them most. I wanted you to be there when it matters the most, not because of you, but because of me. But all that I ever see is that you want me to do things for you, which is why you want me around. If I am of no use to you, then you don't want me around. Is it any wonder that I feel so used and so manipulated?

Do you remember that time when you said that my father wanted to abort me? I bet you don't remember, but I do. I asked him whether it is true. This is what he said: your mother wanted to abort you. So thank you for making me feel unwanted for all of my life.

For the longest time, I felt like everything was my fault. Nothing that I ever do will ever be good enough for you. I wanted validation from you - another thing I would never get. I stopped wanting it for the past few years and my life has been significantly better because of that.

The difficult thing about this is that one, we are supposedly family and so there is no way I could just divorce you and have nothing to do with you for the rest of my life; and two, most people out there who heard me share thing were mostly in disbelief because according to them, a mother can never do that to her own child. Guess what. This one does. So it is either I am wrong about my feelings (again), or if I am right about my feelings, then it must mean, by inference, that I am not her child.

I don't care which one it is.

I have stopped wanting love from you, mother. I do not want to have anything to do with you. Your life is yours and my life is mine. Let's just keep them separate. I don't want to share my life with you, and I don't want you to share your life with me.

My playground rights

"Well, I support your lawful right to say whatever you want. I also support my playground right to break your nose if you call my mother names." - Sophia Chua-Rubenfeld, the tigercub

How to Study Like A Tiger Cub

Today's post is taken from Sophia Chua-Rubenfeld, the tiger cub. She wrote this info on how to study efficiently, which I think is totally spot on! For those of you currently slaving away at school/college/grad school - this is one skill that is worth mastering from an early age.

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I’m publishing this over break, while I still feel qualified to give advice before my soul is crushed by new classes. This is the first in a series of posts I’m working on, which will take the form “How to _____ Like a Tiger Cub.” My mom’s book is not a how-to guide. This is. I’d like to stress the following: there is no good reason you should do anything the way I do. This isn't necessarily the right way; it's my way. But if you so choose, ask in the comments and ye shall receive my advice. Today, I give you:


HOW TO STUDY LIKE A TIGER CUB


Q: I was just wondering if you could share some studying tips?
Like how to study smart or more efficiently?

Preliminary Steps

1. Choose classes that interest you. That way studying doesn’t feel like slave labor. If you don’t want to learn, then I can’t help you.
2. Make some friends. See steps 12, 13, 23, 24.

General Principles

3. Study less, but study better.
4. Avoid Autopilot Brain at all costs.
5. Vague is bad. Vague is a waste of your time.
6. Write it down.
7. Suck it up, buckle down, get it done.

Plan of Attack Phase I: Class

8. Show up. Everything will make a lot more sense that way, and you will save yourself a lot of time in the long run.
9. Take notes by hand. I don’t know the science behind it, but doing anything by hand is a way of carving it into your memory. Also, if you get bored you will doodle, which is still a thousand times better than ending up on stumbleupon or something.

Phase II: Study Time

10. Get out of the library. The sheer fact of being in a library doesn’t fill you with knowledge. Eight hours of Facebooking in the library is still eight hours of Facebooking. Also, people who bring food and blankets to the library and just stay there during finals week start to smell weird. Go home and bathe. You can quiz yourself while you wash your hair.
11. Do a little every day, but don’t let it be your whole day. “This afternoon, I will read a chapter of something and do half a problem set. Then, I will watch an episode of South Park and go to the gym” ALWAYS BEATS “Starting right now, I am going to read as much as I possibly can...oh wow, now it’s midnight, I’m on page five, and my room reeks of ramen and dysfunction.”
12. Give yourself incentive. There’s nothing worse than a gaping abyss of study time. If you know you’re going out in six hours, you’re more likely to get something done.
13. Allow friends to confiscate your phone when they catch you playing Angry Birds. Oh and if you think you need a break, you probably don't.

Phase III: Assignments

14. Stop highlighting. Underlining is supposed to keep you focused, but it’s actually a one-way ticket to Autopilot Brain. You zone out, look down, and suddenly you have five pages of neon green that you don’t remember reading. Write notes in the margins instead.
15. Do all your own work. You get nothing out of copying a problem set. It’s also shady.
16. Read as much as you can. No way around it. Stop trying to cheat with Sparknotes.
17. Be a smart reader, not a robot (lol). Ask yourself: What is the author trying to prove? What is the logical progression of the argument? You can usually answer these questions by reading the introduction and conclusion of every chapter. Then, pick any two examples/anecdotes and commit them to memory (write them down). They will help you reconstruct the author’s argument later on.
18. Don’t read everything, but understand everything that you read. Better to have a deep understanding of a limited amount of material, than to have a vague understanding of an entire course. Once again: Vague is bad. Vague is a waste of your time.
19. Bullet points. For essays, summarizing, everything.

Phase IV: Reading Period (Review Week)

20. Once again: do not move into the library. Eat, sleep, and bathe.
21. If you don’t understand it, it will definitely be on the exam. Solution: textbooks; the internet.
22. Do all the practice problems. This one is totally tiger mom.
23. People are often contemptuous of rote learning. Newsflash: even at great intellectual bastions like Harvard, you will be required to memorize formulas, names and dates. To memorize effectively: stop reading your list over and over again. It doesn’t work. Say it out loud, write it down. Remember how you made friends? Have them quiz you, then return the favor.
24. Again with the friends: ask them to listen while you explain a difficult concept to them. This forces you to articulate your understanding. Remember, vague is bad.
25. Go for the big picture. Try to figure out where a specific concept fits into the course as a whole. This will help you tap into Big Themes – every class has Big Themes – which will streamline what you need to know. You can learn a million facts, but until you understand how they fit together, you’re missing the point.

Phase V: Exam Day


26. Crush exam. Get A.

Edit: Yes, feel free to share this with anyone you like!
Let me know what you think. If you have a request for the blank in "How to ____ Like a Tiger Cub," leave a comment and I'll do my best!

#challenge accepted: rediscovering passion

Today has been a long, long day. In the morning, someone told me that it is going to rain later today, so I was this close to bring my trench coat. I wore my stockings and boots instead and grab my trusty blazer. Seriously, if you ever need to buy investment clothing, buy a blazer. It saves my ass every single time I ever need to look anything close to decent.

I have a love-hate relationship with clothing and dressing up. My younger self loved dressing up, in fact, I was one of these annoying people who always over-dressed. My current self is a lazy person. Right now, I am the laziest person I know. Seriously. I blame this state of laziness on the years of slaving away in grad school. It sucked so much of my energy that there is nothing left. Literally.

So because I am lazy, I struggle, on a daily basis, to look decent. Man, I don't even think about looking good these days. I just want to be nicely presentable, and in the process, not offend those around me. I cannot believe that I am saying this, these days, I do dress so that I don't offend other people. If I can have it my way, I would be wearing jeans, t-shirt, sneakers everywhere I go.

It is only recently I realised that looking good takes a lot of effort. Maybe it has always taken a lot of efforts, it is just that I was in the mood to put in that much effort. I was more excited about it. Then something happens and well, for lack of better description, I just lost my excitement. Where has my passion gone?

They say that "(i)f you want to stay focused on something, I recommend that you start blogging right now" (taken from Why You Should Start a Blog in Your 20s). Challenge accepted! Stay tuned for what's to come!

About me

One of the hardest things that I still struggle with quite a lot in life is that life is about the journey, not just the destination. This is difficult for me because I am built to focus on the end-result, i.e. the destination. I am geared to find the fastest route to get there, the most efficient way to get there. If something can be done to shorten the journey - then you bet I am going to be adopt that. How else can you explain the desire of a 14 year old to skip one year of school? I just want to get out of there as quickly as I could. This does not explain that I found it difficult to leave uni (maybe this is the adverse reaction to leaving high school one year early). It took me 7 years and 2 degrees, and then I was out of there.

Satisfaction, that's the word. I have exhausted it to the point that I had more than enough, and was definitely ready to do the next thing. I was restless. I wanted to do different things. Things I have never done before. I did try a lot of things, I just did not stick to any of them long enough. Take for example, blogging. I tried blogging so many times and most of the time I just did not stick with it long enough. It surprises me that I am doing this again this time around, but I'd like to stick around this time. Not sure what is different this time around - only my desire to stick around has been printed in public.

This blog is a very personal blog. Ok, maybe not that personal, but as personal as I am willing to get on a public domain. Over the years, I wrote pages and pages, or more like books and books of diaries and journals that are now sitting in a box collecting dust. Literally. I just want to burn all of them now. No, it is not a storage issue, I do have space to keep them. I just never read them and I do not want to read them right now. Not sure if I ever want to read them ever. Because I think the things that I want to remember I would store in my memory bank. The ones that I do not wish to remember should remain exactly that: not remembered. So what is the point of keeping those writing? I don't know. If I die, I bet they will get burned. I may as well be the one burning them right now. The goal of writing at that point in time was achieved - that is to provide relief from all the craziness of my life. The result was good because I am still sane till this day (although this is apparently debatable). The other result, the stacks of books, well, I am not sure what purpose they currently serve.

The question that I constantly change my answer to is whether I would be comfortable if anyone reads my diaries. The answer (right now) is that I don't care if anyone wants to read them. They would get uncomfortable, of course, some may even take it personally - because most people in this planet are not comfortable with raw honesty. The truth hurts. So if you are not prepared, then don't go searching for the truth. If you are searching for the truth and you find it, then be prepared for all of the possible consequences attached to it. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. Of course if you get to read them, you would find out bits and pieces about me. But trust me, that is only a glimpse of the picture. Most of me will always remained unspoken. Not because I don't want to share them, but because words are not the appropriate way to share them.

Yes, I do get judged from those people who read my diaries - most of them were so rude, they did not even ask for my permission a priori. The most annoying was that I tried explaining myself when I received a judgement that was waayy off, and my explanation fell into deaf ears. People only see what they want to see. So I thought, so be it. As long as I know myself and that I stay true to myself. Other people can either accept or not accept, in which case I cease being their friend/acquaintance. I make the decision to run away. I don't owe anybody any explanation.

In this life, I am only responsible for my own happiness. I am certainly not responsible for the state of the world, let alone be the person to solve the world's problems. I only come to this realisation a few days ago when I was exchanging a few thoughts with Big Foot. I used to feel guilty because I was born privileged and so I felt obligated to do something good for the world, and felt guilty when I was not doing anything that was remotely of social or humanitarian nature. Whoever said that I would make a career in the humanitarian front is severely misled because I can't stand that line of work. I respect people who do them a lot, but I know that I am not one of those troops.

In a lot of ways, I think I am superficial. I am drawn to people who look good. Ok, who isn't? Good looking people are attractive, and my tendencies towards them is only a product of what they are. Because of this, I have a preference towards beautiful things. I just can't help it. If there are two choices, I would naturally choose the more beautiful one. I mean, really, who doesn't choose the best out of the available choices? Who is not selfish that way?

Ok. The end.

#challenge accepted: losing weight

As I said before, I have been trying to eat less.

But after reading this, I have decided that I am going to embrace skinny life. I think it is about time that I lose that 10 kgs that have been bothering me for the longest time.

I love Xiaxue. She is probably one of the very few bloggers that I know that are so blunt and honest. I really can't stand pretentious people.

I have forgotten you

Actually, that's not accurate. I still remember you. I recognise who you are. If I see you on the street, I would know that it is you. I can probably spot you from afar, or not, I don't pay a lot of attention to these things these days. My mind is preoccupied with lots of other things far more interesting than you. I guess when they say time does heal, what they really mean is that time makes you forget. The time that has been passing since we parted ways has made me slowly forget a lot of things about you.

I forget what sort of food you like. I almost wish that I wrote it down somewhere so that I can reminisce about it when I want to. I forget if you have a preference for a particular kind of wine. Maybe you don't, you seemed to drink anything alcoholic that came your way. I guess you were never fussy that way. Just like you ate anything that came your way. I forget the books you read, the movies you enjoyed, the tv shows that you were addicted to. Maybe I never paid attention in the first place to have enough mental space to allow me to remember.

I can still remember that you enjoyed your lattes and you like going to a cafe every weekend. But this is something that almost every Australian enjoys doing, so I am not sure if this is a trend that I just happen to remember that actually fits you quite so perfectly. I forget what sort of brunch you prefer - I am not sure that you have a preference, actually. As I said, you were never fussy that way.

I guess all that I seem to remember is that you were never a fussy individual. Always amicable, always agreeable. Always saying yes to anything and everything. I remember being invited to one of your 'friend's gathering and he did not open the bottles of wine that the guests brought. This stuck to my mind because I found that extremely odd and rude at the same time. I thought when you extend a dinner invitation, you would at least know the etiquette attached to it. I guess I was wrong. Or I just had a different standard all together. Because if it were me and my friends, the bottles of wine that the guests bring would be the ones cracked open and enjoyed. And when that run out, the host would supply more wine or take a quick trip down to the bottle shop and get more wine.

Throughout the time that we were supposedly together, I never felt as if I was your girlfriend. This was why I hated how you kept referring me as your girlfriend when you did not even treat me like one. I don't care how much gift you brought me - I hated those things, I hated wearing the dresses you brought, I never asked for any of them. I hated having to pretend that I liked them and that I was grateful for them. I much prefer selecting the dresses myself. Yes, this is partially my fault because I never quite told you openly that I prefer to select the dresses myself. Lately this is what I told people: don't give things that I don't ask for. Chance is that I will toss them. My sister tried giving me a pair of black shoes that I said no to before even seeing them. Yes, I am that ruthless. I can't help it - I prefer going shopping myself.

I don't know what you thought a boyfriend was, but this is what it has always been for me: someone who not only tells me that he loves me, but also shows me at every opportunity that he loves me. He is someone who understands that I appreciate his efforts a lot more when I have actually asked for the favour a priori. He understands that I have my own life and my own schedule and my own preferences and he does not try to permeate every single aspect of my life. He accepts that we need room to grow as individuals as much as we grow as a couple. So even when I don't always tell him that I love him, he knows that I do because he loves me that much.

What I remember of what is left is how you needed assurance constantly. It is like every single memory is tainted with how badly you wanted me to assure you of things that I was not even sure in the first place. There is no way in the world that I could have assured you that we were in a relationship if I did not even feel like I was your girlfriend. Yes, you said you loved me. Problem is that I did not feel that you loved me. If you thought this was my problem, then all I can say is this: this is precisely what the problem is. You said you love me, I don't feel it, you said that's my problem, I felt like your words were just that: words. I felt like you did not mean anything that you said. Thus, to me, you did not love me.

When it comes to this, we were both at fault, whether we'd like to admit it or not. But since it was all in the past, let's not discuss this anymore, shall we? Let's just move on and be happy. I know I am.

Exhaustion again

This whole week, all that I felt most of the time can be summarised into the following words: super tired. I am exhausted most of the time. I was so relieved when I found out that today was Friday, but I got up late and I was late to work. Yes, I was exhausted beyond words. And I plan to just rest this weekend and recharge for the following week.

I have officially become one of those people - you know, the ones who look forward to weekends and only weekends. What the fuck happened to me. Why do I turn out to be someone like this.

Oh well, never mind the questions. The weekend is here and I intend to rest as much as I can.

So much rain

A few years ago, the dam level was so low that there was water restrictions. Now the dam is about to burst (or has already burst)?? Such a drastic change from a few years ago. Back then the summers were so hot and so dry. Now hot days and sunshine are a luxury.

Woke up this morning because of the rain and because I was hungry. I try to so hard not to eat so much these days. I try not to succumb to temptation so much. I mean, surely, one person does not need to eat that much? I try to pace myself and spread my eating throughout the day. I don't know whether it is really true that it is better to eat small meals at frequent intervals, but that seems to work for me.

I think it is probably easier on everyone if we have more consistent rain throughout the years, so that we don't have to experience the extremes of seasons. The farmers would have better harvests every year. We don't have to have water restrictions and we don't have to evacuate the houses along the river bank.

But I suppose mother nature has a different plan?

To the girl who thinks she has everything

For some reason I dont quite understand, I am thinking about you. I don't particularly like thinking about you because I think you are a shitty person deep down. But on the surface, you are actually attractive. Man, even I was attracted by you, and I don't get attracted easily.

So let me say this: you are shit. You are pretentious, fake and opportunistic.

I get that most people in this planet are opportunistic (whether they want to admit it or not), but you are especially opportunistic. Sure you are attractive and everyone wants to know you and if they dare, be your friend, but let's be clear on one thing: we are not friends.

We were not friends then and we are not friends now. In fact, I prefer not to be your friend. I can't stand being with someone so pretentious and so engrossed with first world problems. Yes, you are an arrogant brat.

For once, stop exaggerating how great your life is and see it for what it is: you are lonely and you are desperate for attention. That is how you managed to sleep with three guys who are friends. In fact, that is how you managed to get any guy's attention: sleeping with them.

And no, I don't pity you.

Remember folks, outer appearances are ALWAYS deceiving.

Free will

So yesterday, I came to the conclusion that

(1) you are an adult

(2) you are free to make your own decisions

(3) you are the one who needs to live with them

And so subsequently, I decided to just let it be. I mean, I am not going to give an opinion when you didn't ask for one.

I don't mind giving an opinion or two, insofar as they are wanted. I can even give a well-thought out one given the right set of information and adequate time to think about it. I can care when you ask me to care. But I cannot care when you don't ask me to - it is just too much for me. Unrequited love is something I prefer not to have in my life.

Maybe, I just don't love you as much any more. It is ok, I know you don't love me as much too. Once upon a time, we did love each other a lot. Well, I did love you a lot. In 2009. I don't love you as much any more. I am not sure I could ever love you like I did in 2009.

Education and work

Time and time again I ask myself what is the point of obtaining a degree, or two, or three. I am always a proponent for education, and almost fall in love with Malcolm Turnbull when he said that he believes in spending in education. When we are in the classroom, we learn so much more than the mere subject material we are supposed to pass eventually. We learn how to interact with other people. We learn how to organise our lives so that we can study in addition to doing everything else we are supposed to do. Most importantly, we learn how to learn. Learning is a skill that is most useful in life. I cannot imagine going through this life without my ability to learn.

The biggest stigma that is faced by all graduates is that once you have graduated, you need to obtain a job in your field, otherwise your degree is useless. Trust me, I get this all the time. So much so that I am pretty much sick of it. I have not quite felt the need to defend myself yet, so I just say yea yea. I mean, without wanting to brag, how about you try obtaining my job without any qualification. I am pretty sure it is possible. But having a degree can never hurt your chances.

This is the thing that I hate most about society - since when are we supposed to work in our field only? What is wrong with working in a different field, as long as it is legit work and you are earning enough money and most importantly, you are happy? It is like the values that we have around us, that is imposed by this thing called society, are designed so that we are miserable with our choices most of the time.

In Asia, scientists are held in the highest regard. In high school, if you manage to be the top student in the science stream, then you are pretty much set for life. If you are the top student in the arts stream, then chance is that you are going to be poor for the rest of your life (not to mentioned looked down upon). I am a terrible scientist - I never quite understood the subject, but I was damn awesome at memorising, so I got the top marks. My parents, quite fortunately, never paid attention to subjects, so I managed to not pursue the science field with no resistance. One of the many things that they've done right, I reckon.

I admire those people who can thrive and survive in this world with or without education. I can only imagine the things that they have learnt in this life to ensure that they are able to thrive irrespective of their current situations. Sometimes, because I've got it relatively easier, I tend to forget that there are a lot more people in this life whose lives are a lot more challenging than mine. They are the ones who are most intimate with the real meaning of hard work.

Being liked

Why do we want other people to like us? Why do we want this so badly? I read this article during my lunch break and nearly laughed my ass off. It is kind of like, once upon a time, I told my friends this: who doesn't want to be loved?

I don't mind being liked, but I am not sure that my efforts are focused on being liked by others. This is because, quite frankly, I do not like everybody that I meet in this life. So with every single person, what I do is give respect, even when I don't like them. If I like them, I will get to know them, well, eventually anyway. At times, it was like instantaneous best-friend-like connection. It all differs depending on a lot of factors, so really, it is not an indicator of how much I like the people in question.

There was a time whereby I was so desperate to be liked. Man, I hated myself then. I was trying to be someone I am not and subsequently, I came across as someone fake. I was fake. Needless to say, ever since, I have learnt the errors of my ways and changed my approach. I stopped caring about what other people think. They do not know me and they do not know my life and they are certainly not living my life. I am the one who has to be comfortable with my own decisions and how I project myself with those sort of decisions. So really, as long as I am comfortable, other people be damned.

I have always admired those who are genuinely comfortable in their own skins. I admire even more those who can do so while maintaining a level of respect for people whose choices are different than theirs. Because that is what being truly comfortable with oneself is all about.