Thursday, July 7, 2016

Waking up in Singapore



For a long time, I called Singapore home; that's about 5 years and give or take a few months. It wasn’t a difficult move from Malaysia. The plan was simple, I would leave Malaysia, hopefully for good, to go to study in Singapore and secure a permanent job there for a time. Singapore would be my stepping stone. It sort of was and wasn’t. But the thing is here, I could appreciate things others might have taken for granted a lot better.
To give context to what I mean, I have to give more of my background information. I was raised in a relatively strict family. My mum would be the whip or cane while my father was more lenient but not by that much in comparison. My mum frequently blew her top and my dad less so, though it was never any less scary. Almost everything in my life up to this point was directed and advised by my mum. Course, if I couldn’t take or understand certain things to my satisfaction, I would not do them or do them well. An example that my mum regularly brings up is my piano classes. I did not understand at the time why music was so important and never gave any time to practice and even if I did it was always begrudgingly and so as to not get scolded further. I never moved past beginner level, which was fine because piano classes were expensive and I didn’t appreciate the instrument when I was younger. My mum assumed because that as a child I would automatically go and learn a new subject and take to it. Music and learning piano was good for the brain, that was her understanding. Course, to me at the time, I didn’t want anything to do with it because it was time being taken away that I could waste on other things I preferred. It was only in college that I realized music would’ve been important to me more literally if I could actually use it in a project rather literally, rather than follow some expert’s theory that it would grow the brain in a more balanced manner. I still do not regret that decision not to pursue music at the time because I didn’t understand the importance.
Anyway, my household has always been very strict. As such, I grew up rather polite and friendly because if I was rude in any way, I would be scolded and punished for even the slightest thing. Sounds harsh but I appreciate the efforts my parents put in so that I would not grow into a little shit like most other children these days. For me, responsibility was more about doing something so I wouldn’t get scolded. I grew not to know how to appreciate positive feedback  because I very rarely ever received nice comments. As my ex so succintly put it, I was an emotional dwarf. I never knew how to react in a public situation because my mum would always take the lead and I would just follow. There were so many things in life I grew up expecting there to be certain rules and ways to do things simply because my mum would scold me if I didn’t do it “properly”. Of course, because of this I would get stuck in certain modes as I wouldn’t get scolded this way. Ridiculously enough, my mum would still scold me for being inflexible. Rather fortunately, I was very open to new ideas, which is why I frequently rebelled against everything and anything being forced onto me. This is the part of me that my mum hates but I feel she never understood or bothered to learn why.
In a way, my biggest act of rebellion was to badger my parents to send me to Singapore. Well, not so much badger, suggest. The act of badgering was to ask them to get me into an art college. I had to prove that doing animation was both profitable and good. I managed to sell my case to my mum though my dad had difficulty understanding it and always insisted I go to learn law which was a laugh because every time I stepped into his study room it was so choked full of law literature that I was always daunted by it. At any rate, my initial frolicking about in an art college was at The One Academy. That was an…. Interesting and necessary experience. From there I learned what to expect from an art school and what might make a good art school. After dropping out, I set about moping and looking for a new college. Eventually, I took up my mum’s suggestion and we took a trip down to Singapore to check out the offerings. I tried for Digipen but the requirements were a bit….high. I did however get a lead from there to try out at LASALLE. To this day, LASALLE has been my most important milestone, next to joining a certain baking retail company.
This started my actual learning phase. Learning about life, not just art and animation. The most important ingredient to this was the freedom from my parents. In Singapore, I could actually and finally be myself because I had breathing room. Don’t get me wrong, I will always be grateful for my parents near harsh upbringing and they did do it well. I didn’t turn out a piece of shit. However, it was in Singapore that I was able to finally learn how to socialize properly. I had to learn how to make decisions on my own and above all, actually live life the way I wanted to. My life will never be the life that my parents want it to be, which is fine because I’m happy even if my line would never be stable.
Singapore gave me my first girlfriend, subsequently ex. Being here also taught me how to appreciate my family more. My living was in stark constrast to some of the more, debilitatingly spoilt students and some of the most hard working students who were ferociously and proudly independent. I knew I had to strive to become even more independent. That materialized for only a short while. After graduating from LASALLE, there was the problem of work. One good thing about Singapore was how much of a slap in the face it gives you when it comes to grant repayment: you can have a degree but still wind up working as a road sweeper, just to pay off your grant and the Singaporean Ministry of Education won’t give a fuck about it.
This aspect of living in Singapore always rankled. The ideal situation would be that you apply what you learned in Singapore and actually contribute to your industry in Singapore, not work as a shop assistant at the arse end of the industry; selling accessories and merchandise that related to animation. Life is like that though. I eventually stopped work and had to leave Singapore as my passes expired and no one would hire a Malaysian when they had quotas of Singaporeans to fulfill. I have seen so many companies get their desired talents turned away because they needed more Singaporean talents…. In certain cases, Singaporean talents that realize that working actually involves work and run away after a single day, bringing everyone back to square one.
And so, here I am, on my way back to visit my brother in Singapore. He’ll have a much better chance than me because he’s in the business field and Singapore could always use more of those. I think the most important thing about Singapore was that it was safe enough that I could have enough freedom to learn more about myself and to figure out how to live life. A lot of my life growing up was very metered, very measured. I could never go and take an extensive risk without getting a chiding from my parents. I suppose my failure to get a first degree from LASALLE has continued to contribute to this issue. Growing up, I think I have never been allowed room to fail. Failure is important. It is living through and past failure that life shows you how not to do certain things. It is important because it is part of experimentation, to see what works. My parents never tolerate failure I feel. This is most likely the reason why I myself and afraid of failure. But now, pushing close to 26, I realize, I do need to fail or attempt to fail in the hopes that I do not. Because sitting here in a stupid office chair waiting for the right moment feels fucking dumb. I find it ironic that they themselves keep reminding me to try different things but all I see is them insisting their methods are correct. I know that they are, but they will never bring me the results I need: actual work in a creative field. They are thinking of stability. Stabilty means money, less stress and absolute boredom. A life of febrile servitude to a corporate being that cares not a whim for the individual employee. Now, that is not life, that is stagnation. That is the way to developing a mid-life crisis and I will not have any part of it.
Writing this now, I do believe it is time to just up and quit. Start afresh. Have actual goals that I know I can and must accomplish. My goals will be more of a loose series of guidelines and targets. But it matters not, long as I do not die in an office chair, I’m happy. So, thank you Singapore for the unexpected freedoms you’ve allowed me from my parents. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate my parents for doing the things they’ve done and in fact, love them for it, but I do value freedom just a bit more than the stiff rules they have set up for me in the past.




Sunday, May 1, 2016

i still want to go home

at some point in time. i think it will be best to assume that i will need to commit suicide.

i want to stop living, go straight to hell and live there.

i'm somehow fucking rubbish at everything except english. why?

i would love to travel back in time and kill myself as when i was forming as an embryo. cause myself to become a fucking miscarriage.

i think we need to stop feeding our children garbage and telling them they can be whatever the fuck they want to be. because money is always fucking more important than having lived satisfied.

why can't suicide be a legitimate reset button?

i've made so many mistakes. and i will continue making mistakes as i live. i don't want to fucking making mistakes anymore. end the fucking story already.

live and work till 60. retire with a fat bank account. are you not happy? i'm not.

i need to kill myself so many times that i will not be reborn for the next 3000 cycles.

show me a picture of someone truly living the good life. and i'll tell you, that fucking bastard's a one in a million. then ask the fucker, why isn't that you then?

i'm done being pessimistic. don't tell me to be optimistic. you should instead encourage me to be a very good casual conman.

if people like me committed suicide more often, i can guarantee that we'll have stopped world hunger, ended the debt crises and fixed the overpopulation problem.

never compare me or others in my position to someone in a destitute country. we're not brought up the same. and were our positions swapped i can't guarantee that person would not give a fuck about me either. we do not live the same lives. i certainly don't take things for granted. but i certainly will have different priorities than the destitute person. let's put it this way. let me give an example: your child and another person's child are both at opposite ends of the same room, you are in the middle of your room; at the ends of the room are horrific traps designed to kill both kids in a heartbeat. which child would you save first? in most cases, it would be your own. my point? you have your own priorities. you will almost always place you and yours ahead of others. your opportunities have afforded you to be worried about other things. you would have enough issues on your plate that you wouldn't even think of worrying about another person, at least not till they appear in the news. and even so, you'd worry about them for only a short while. focus on the things that matter most to yourself. the only reason you should care about others is when you are secure in your own position. get your own house in order before fixing someone else's.

i fucking hate life. you've equipped me with certain skills that i can use or sell as a service. but you always remove the things i want to improve upon. and even then good luck, because someone else would have rolled the dice and scored perfectly. somehow we're always expected to top that. i want to kill myself.

i have failed at life. i have failed to give it anything meaningful. i have failed myself. i cannot do anything i wanted to do and the things i am good at are rubbish. i fucked up my education. i fucked myself. now, i can't even commit suicide because of my parents and family. if i continue i know for sure i'll have a mid life crisis or just off myself. if only it were that easy though. i'm never going to be successful. i'll never taste even a drop of it. i'm a drone in an office in the middle of a desert. i will never equate success in that office as a personal success. i'm depressed that nothing i do will ever come to fruition and whatever so-called good opportunities i have take me further away from what i want. i'm far enough now that i've lost sight of what i've always wanted and can't go back. i can't pull all nighters anymore. i'm out of shape. i past the stage of being fucking suicidal. i'm tired. i want to end this. i just want to disappear and never exist. i hate the charlatans that preach to us that we can be whatever we set our minds to. we can't and we won't ever make it. i always take good things with a pinch of salt. there's always a fucking catch somewhere. i hate the fact i'm reduced to working in an office. that's not where i want to be. and if you want to work in a fucking office, you can fucking have it. leave me out of it. i want to go home.

i'm in my own house, in my own room and i still tell myself that i want to go home.