for once in my life i'm really speechless. not only speechless but amused and horrified and indignant and everything all rolled up into one. INDIGNANT. yes i was really indignant at some point of time earlier but now that all the steam has been let off i'm just feeling weary and .. you know ... mildly like ... ???!!!!.
worst thing is. nothing can be done to make anything better. whatever. as if firm friendships aren't already difficult enough to make... once made and cemented they have to be subject to external forces beyond our control. mind you i'm not judging anyone or anything. just reflecting on how i've just been proven that the cynics of this world have once again gotten it right.
and so the virgin experience came and went. it wasn't really all that thrilling or emotional or foreign as i thought it would be. it was just it. i just arrived. warmed up. ran. finished. and that was it. to quote the secret history again, "... i remember thinking dimly that it was sort of like the first time I got drunk, or slept with a girl; not quite what one expected, really, but once it happened one realized it couldn't be any other way..."
and now in 3 months time i'll have to run double today's distance. that is a really scary thought considering that my last 5km today passed in a blur haze of fatigue and pain and eager scanning of every other lampost for the signs that would say "17 km", "18km"... and so on.
well the week has come and (almost) gone, and so has my unfortunate bout of illness. sore throat, fever, headache, cough, blister in between the toes ... you name it, i got it. my 2 tapered runs (there were supposed to be 3, but on wednesday i decided that i was really too sick) weren't exactly the best of runs ... okay well, saying that they weren't exactly the best of runs is a GROSS UNDERSTATEMENT -- the truth is that i was feeling woozy and light-headed and all, and the urge to just sit down on the track and die was just growing stronger with every step i took. but i'd like to think that it was because i hadn't fully recovered yet. from experience, my post-illness runs have always been damn shiok ones -- i'm always filled with pent up energy and raring to go and hopefully ... just hopefully sunday's one will be no different.
but as everyone has been telling me, 21k is no joke. i know. and i promise to listen to my body. and right now my body is telling me it is on the mend, slowly and surely, and that it will not fail me come crunch time. but perhaps what is most important is that deep down inside i believe that i can do it if i want to. because once you even have some self-doubt, then half the battle is lost.
c'mon
i can do this
and finally, the saying which has stayed with me all these years and which i've always firmly believed in -- mind over body.
i can't believe you did that. what were you trying to achieve?! and how many other times have you done that before, just that i never knew because i never bothered to check?!
after my fantastic final long training run on sunday, it suddenly seems as though everything is conspiring against me. my thighs are still aching (and its tuesday already), i have a freaking blister in between my toes as the result of which i can't even walk properly (and it wasn't even caused by my running!) and now i have a nasty sore throat.
what the shit.
another thing ... i may seem well-prepared and confident and all that but deep down inside i'm actually very scared. scared that something will go wrong, scared that i won't be able to run my best, scared that some accident will prevent me from even making it to the starting line, scared that i'll start cramping up during the last 5 km (which, to me, is still unchartered territory) because this ... my virgin long distance competitive race... means so much to me, i can't even begin to explain the rush of emotions i feel just thinking about running it.
i just hope that everything will turn out fine. but if the need arises, i am prepared. to run through any amount of pain, to give it my all, to run till i collapse even. just to finish. and finish decently.
5 days.
even though i'm not their greatest fan, i must admit that so far our government has been getting almost everything right, except THIS.
however i see it and no matter how objective i try to be, i can't see how the decision to start a 2nd law school in Singapore can be anything but disastrous.
i've almost forgotten how much fun it is to hang out with the law school og peeps.
BTC sucks. everything about it sucks. from the low frequency shuttle buses to the often jammed up route from KRC to BTC to the lack of benches in the corridors to the freezingly cold temperatures around to the bad bad food in the cafeteria to the dismal size of the cafeteria to the fact that the whole area is still essentially a construction side to the fact that when it rains you can't get ANYWHERE without getting wet to the severe lack of powerpoints in the classroom to the seemingly useless powerpoints along the corridor (tell me. do they seriously think that law students will want to sit on the floor along the corridors to charge their laptops?!) to the tiny lifts to the fact that the lifts take ages to come so that everyone just takes the stairs anyway even though the building is 5 storeys high to the toilets whose lights turn off automatically after 5 minutes so that you can't even shit in peace inside to the lack of hot water at the water coolers to the sucky vending machine which dispenses ice water when you want iced horlicks to the co-op that closes at 2pm (?!?!) to the inaccessibility of (most of) the lockers to the library which is tiny and cramped and has really low ceilings and to the lack of a student lounge and to the photocopiers which always seem to be out of paper to the fact that the freaking buildings are on a STEEP HILL to the lack of parking lots to the weird architecture to EVERYTHING.
bah. i'd always thought that moving was a bad idea. we should just have stayed put at kent ridge.
i'm really attracted to the idea of living a decadent life, "the-secret-history"-style, but too bad that only 2 other people will really understand what i mean. decadent, according to dictionary.com, means either "being in a state of decline or decay" or "marked by or providing unrestrained gratification; self indulgent". wide and general definitions, but somehow i can't imagine decadence being anything other than how it's been portrayed in the book. the exact proportions of drink, sin and wrongdoing must be correct, otherwise your life will just be 'morally blameworthy', and not decadent. and somehow above it all, there's this nagging idea that the key to such a life is ... a knowledge of greek and seeing the world through 'greek eyes'.
despite the praises i've heaped on the story so far, i do have this weird elitist notion that the book, and the resulting 'greek decadent' haze it has left me in is an experience that belongs, and should belong to me and only me alone. it probably already belongs to me alone though because everyone will interpret richard's story in different ways. dont get me wrong -- i'm really happy that a certain 2 people share my love for the book and i love being able to suddenly make a cryptic remark about something which reminds me of it and have them understand exactly what i mean but i feel like the circle should be closed. at us.
this way of thinking, strangely, is in line with julian's philosophy as well. not everyone who knows greek is admitted into his classes. he has to like the way they think and carry themselves etc before they are allowed into his elite circle of students. similarly i now feel that richard's story should only be told to those who are worthy of hearing it - those who can appreciate the decadence in it. and the 3 of us are, imo, those who can appreciate it the most out of everyone i know. that's why it should stop here. i'll probably never recommend it to anyone else ever unless i feel that they deserve to read it. crazy i know but really, it's been quite a while since i was this obsessed over something.
this story would make an amazing movie, but it has to be done with so much skill. skill which i don't think anyone possesses because everything has to be just right for it not to go wrong. but if this can actually be done, voila we'll have a classic in our hands. i hope someone attempts it. hopefully someone who's just as obssessed as i am.
well it hasn't been an easy 3 weeks. not to say that the internal struggles have subsided -- i'm equally confused as before as to what i really want. and sometimes on top of a hard day's work i simply no longer have the desire or strength to face anyone, let alone socialize, smile at, talk to and act happy in front of people i barely know, can't be bothered with and will probably never get to know well. does wanting to stay in all day long and mope around equal depression? probably not. but i'm at least getting a view of how bland, hopeless and pointless the world and life feels to clinically depressed people.
i haven't been at my most sociable at times. many have been quick to condemn, to judge before they fully understand what's been happening. but i can't be bothered anymore -- these are those who only look for me when there's something they want from me or when they need me to make up the numbers for you-know-what. then there are those whom i'm not close to at all, and who have no idea of what i'm going through but their warmth and sincere friendliness brighten up my otherwise long and dreary days in the office. thanks to them i can temporarily escape from my problems and pretend that they dont exist, even if its just for a short while.
and of course there are those who have constantly been by my side. who've let me whine complain bitch and grumble to them. who really sincerely do care. who haven't judged me a single bit even after hearing what i've had to say. and these are the people i love to bits. and i think they know it. also. those who've taken the trouble and time to talk to me about anything - nothing in particular when i just needed someone to talk to. i'm very very grateful.
lastly the groo. these must have been trying times but he's always been trying to draw me out of my shell, talk to me, cheer me up and giving me the personal space i need even though i can't tell him what i'm upset about. even though i still seem down and despondent despite his best efforts, i think he should know that deep down i really do appreciate everything.
and yes i am still despondent. i've no idea when i'll snap out of it though... hopefully things will get better with the start of school and meeting friends again and all that.
every single time i walk into a bookstore i invariably feel an irresistable urge to buy something. its just like the books on the shelves are calling out to me 'buy me! take me home, read me and love me!' and most of the time i succumb even though i know i'm horribly broke and that i still have several unread books at home. i cant describe how much i love the feel of having a book in my hand, the smell of unread pages and the total immersion into a different world. its been ages since i fell asleep w/o a book in my hands and since i ate a meal at home w/o reading anything. its like a compulsion. i have to read when i eat. enid blyton is still my favourite mealtime companion but anything goes. week-old newspapers, cereal boxes, pamphlets... anything on the dining table goes.
but tonight i didn't buy anything from kino. i dont think anyone will know how much self restraint that took because in that short 30 mins i saw at least 15 titles which i wanted on my bookshelf. sigh. actually i think i dont mind getting borders/kino vouchers from everyone for my bday every year. every single year. i'd be the most contented person around.
anyway. i'm re-reading -the secret history- again. for the 3rd time. words cant describe how much i love it. and every time i re read it i find bits of pure literary genius which i'd never noticed the previous times. i dont think i will ever read any more of her other books because i know i'll definitely be disappointed. the secret history is that kind of once-in-a-lifetime thingies. as it is, the little friend really pales in comparison.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
" there was a grand piano, too, and Charles was playing, a glass of whiskey on the seat beside him. He was a little drunk, the Chopin was slurred and fluid, the notes melting sleepily into one another. A breeze stirred the heavy moth-eaten velvet curtains, ruffing his hair"
candice
danette
danielle
diana
fang
hanshuo
james
jieyun
joanne
mavis
melissa
ru
shan
sharon
sylvia
xiuling
xiuying
for once in my life i'm really speechless. not only speechless but amused and horrified and indignant and everything all rolled up into one. INDIGNANT. yes i was really indignant at some point of time earlier but now that all the steam has been let off i'm just feeling weary and .. you know ... mildly like ... ???!!!!.
worst thing is. nothing can be done to make anything better. whatever. as if firm friendships aren't already difficult enough to make... once made and cemented they have to be subject to external forces beyond our control. mind you i'm not judging anyone or anything. just reflecting on how i've just been proven that the cynics of this world have once again gotten it right.
and so the virgin experience came and went. it wasn't really all that thrilling or emotional or foreign as i thought it would be. it was just it. i just arrived. warmed up. ran. finished. and that was it. to quote the secret history again, "... i remember thinking dimly that it was sort of like the first time I got drunk, or slept with a girl; not quite what one expected, really, but once it happened one realized it couldn't be any other way..."
and now in 3 months time i'll have to run double today's distance. that is a really scary thought considering that my last 5km today passed in a blur haze of fatigue and pain and eager scanning of every other lampost for the signs that would say "17 km", "18km"... and so on.
well the week has come and (almost) gone, and so has my unfortunate bout of illness. sore throat, fever, headache, cough, blister in between the toes ... you name it, i got it. my 2 tapered runs (there were supposed to be 3, but on wednesday i decided that i was really too sick) weren't exactly the best of runs ... okay well, saying that they weren't exactly the best of runs is a GROSS UNDERSTATEMENT -- the truth is that i was feeling woozy and light-headed and all, and the urge to just sit down on the track and die was just growing stronger with every step i took. but i'd like to think that it was because i hadn't fully recovered yet. from experience, my post-illness runs have always been damn shiok ones -- i'm always filled with pent up energy and raring to go and hopefully ... just hopefully sunday's one will be no different.
but as everyone has been telling me, 21k is no joke. i know. and i promise to listen to my body. and right now my body is telling me it is on the mend, slowly and surely, and that it will not fail me come crunch time. but perhaps what is most important is that deep down inside i believe that i can do it if i want to. because once you even have some self-doubt, then half the battle is lost.
c'mon
i can do this
and finally, the saying which has stayed with me all these years and which i've always firmly believed in -- mind over body.
i can't believe you did that. what were you trying to achieve?! and how many other times have you done that before, just that i never knew because i never bothered to check?!
after my fantastic final long training run on sunday, it suddenly seems as though everything is conspiring against me. my thighs are still aching (and its tuesday already), i have a freaking blister in between my toes as the result of which i can't even walk properly (and it wasn't even caused by my running!) and now i have a nasty sore throat.
what the shit.
another thing ... i may seem well-prepared and confident and all that but deep down inside i'm actually very scared. scared that something will go wrong, scared that i won't be able to run my best, scared that some accident will prevent me from even making it to the starting line, scared that i'll start cramping up during the last 5 km (which, to me, is still unchartered territory) because this ... my virgin long distance competitive race... means so much to me, i can't even begin to explain the rush of emotions i feel just thinking about running it.
i just hope that everything will turn out fine. but if the need arises, i am prepared. to run through any amount of pain, to give it my all, to run till i collapse even. just to finish. and finish decently.
5 days.
even though i'm not their greatest fan, i must admit that so far our government has been getting almost everything right, except THIS.
however i see it and no matter how objective i try to be, i can't see how the decision to start a 2nd law school in Singapore can be anything but disastrous.
i've almost forgotten how much fun it is to hang out with the law school og peeps.
BTC sucks. everything about it sucks. from the low frequency shuttle buses to the often jammed up route from KRC to BTC to the lack of benches in the corridors to the freezingly cold temperatures around to the bad bad food in the cafeteria to the dismal size of the cafeteria to the fact that the whole area is still essentially a construction side to the fact that when it rains you can't get ANYWHERE without getting wet to the severe lack of powerpoints in the classroom to the seemingly useless powerpoints along the corridor (tell me. do they seriously think that law students will want to sit on the floor along the corridors to charge their laptops?!) to the tiny lifts to the fact that the lifts take ages to come so that everyone just takes the stairs anyway even though the building is 5 storeys high to the toilets whose lights turn off automatically after 5 minutes so that you can't even shit in peace inside to the lack of hot water at the water coolers to the sucky vending machine which dispenses ice water when you want iced horlicks to the co-op that closes at 2pm (?!?!) to the inaccessibility of (most of) the lockers to the library which is tiny and cramped and has really low ceilings and to the lack of a student lounge and to the photocopiers which always seem to be out of paper to the fact that the freaking buildings are on a STEEP HILL to the lack of parking lots to the weird architecture to EVERYTHING.
bah. i'd always thought that moving was a bad idea. we should just have stayed put at kent ridge.
i'm really attracted to the idea of living a decadent life, "the-secret-history"-style, but too bad that only 2 other people will really understand what i mean. decadent, according to dictionary.com, means either "being in a state of decline or decay" or "marked by or providing unrestrained gratification; self indulgent". wide and general definitions, but somehow i can't imagine decadence being anything other than how it's been portrayed in the book. the exact proportions of drink, sin and wrongdoing must be correct, otherwise your life will just be 'morally blameworthy', and not decadent. and somehow above it all, there's this nagging idea that the key to such a life is ... a knowledge of greek and seeing the world through 'greek eyes'.
despite the praises i've heaped on the story so far, i do have this weird elitist notion that the book, and the resulting 'greek decadent' haze it has left me in is an experience that belongs, and should belong to me and only me alone. it probably already belongs to me alone though because everyone will interpret richard's story in different ways. dont get me wrong -- i'm really happy that a certain 2 people share my love for the book and i love being able to suddenly make a cryptic remark about something which reminds me of it and have them understand exactly what i mean but i feel like the circle should be closed. at us.
this way of thinking, strangely, is in line with julian's philosophy as well. not everyone who knows greek is admitted into his classes. he has to like the way they think and carry themselves etc before they are allowed into his elite circle of students. similarly i now feel that richard's story should only be told to those who are worthy of hearing it - those who can appreciate the decadence in it. and the 3 of us are, imo, those who can appreciate it the most out of everyone i know. that's why it should stop here. i'll probably never recommend it to anyone else ever unless i feel that they deserve to read it. crazy i know but really, it's been quite a while since i was this obsessed over something.
this story would make an amazing movie, but it has to be done with so much skill. skill which i don't think anyone possesses because everything has to be just right for it not to go wrong. but if this can actually be done, voila we'll have a classic in our hands. i hope someone attempts it. hopefully someone who's just as obssessed as i am.
well it hasn't been an easy 3 weeks. not to say that the internal struggles have subsided -- i'm equally confused as before as to what i really want. and sometimes on top of a hard day's work i simply no longer have the desire or strength to face anyone, let alone socialize, smile at, talk to and act happy in front of people i barely know, can't be bothered with and will probably never get to know well. does wanting to stay in all day long and mope around equal depression? probably not. but i'm at least getting a view of how bland, hopeless and pointless the world and life feels to clinically depressed people.
i haven't been at my most sociable at times. many have been quick to condemn, to judge before they fully understand what's been happening. but i can't be bothered anymore -- these are those who only look for me when there's something they want from me or when they need me to make up the numbers for you-know-what. then there are those whom i'm not close to at all, and who have no idea of what i'm going through but their warmth and sincere friendliness brighten up my otherwise long and dreary days in the office. thanks to them i can temporarily escape from my problems and pretend that they dont exist, even if its just for a short while.
and of course there are those who have constantly been by my side. who've let me whine complain bitch and grumble to them. who really sincerely do care. who haven't judged me a single bit even after hearing what i've had to say. and these are the people i love to bits. and i think they know it. also. those who've taken the trouble and time to talk to me about anything - nothing in particular when i just needed someone to talk to. i'm very very grateful.
lastly the groo. these must have been trying times but he's always been trying to draw me out of my shell, talk to me, cheer me up and giving me the personal space i need even though i can't tell him what i'm upset about. even though i still seem down and despondent despite his best efforts, i think he should know that deep down i really do appreciate everything.
and yes i am still despondent. i've no idea when i'll snap out of it though... hopefully things will get better with the start of school and meeting friends again and all that.
every single time i walk into a bookstore i invariably feel an irresistable urge to buy something. its just like the books on the shelves are calling out to me 'buy me! take me home, read me and love me!' and most of the time i succumb even though i know i'm horribly broke and that i still have several unread books at home. i cant describe how much i love the feel of having a book in my hand, the smell of unread pages and the total immersion into a different world. its been ages since i fell asleep w/o a book in my hands and since i ate a meal at home w/o reading anything. its like a compulsion. i have to read when i eat. enid blyton is still my favourite mealtime companion but anything goes. week-old newspapers, cereal boxes, pamphlets... anything on the dining table goes.
but tonight i didn't buy anything from kino. i dont think anyone will know how much self restraint that took because in that short 30 mins i saw at least 15 titles which i wanted on my bookshelf. sigh. actually i think i dont mind getting borders/kino vouchers from everyone for my bday every year. every single year. i'd be the most contented person around.
anyway. i'm re-reading -the secret history- again. for the 3rd time. words cant describe how much i love it. and every time i re read it i find bits of pure literary genius which i'd never noticed the previous times. i dont think i will ever read any more of her other books because i know i'll definitely be disappointed. the secret history is that kind of once-in-a-lifetime thingies. as it is, the little friend really pales in comparison.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
" there was a grand piano, too, and Charles was playing, a glass of whiskey on the seat beside him. He was a little drunk, the Chopin was slurred and fluid, the notes melting sleepily into one another. A breeze stirred the heavy moth-eaten velvet curtains, ruffing his hair"