The Pursuit of Capital Letters

Just now, while scrolling through the facebook profiles of some random people, I felt an absolute disconnect with them. It was as if their lives and my life had always been parallel lines, never intersecting and careening off in their own directions. It is surreal to imagine that just five, six months ago, I was walking in the same compound as them, wearing the same grey uniform as them, even conversing and laughing with them. The rate at which we adapt to changes in life is almost scary to fathom. We are all in our little spheres, revolving away from each other, like flimsy filmy bubbles blown away from the same soapy stick and released into the wide wide world out there. I am probably never going to see some of these people again. How tragically beautiful all this is: the inevitable scruffing out of chalk-drawn relationship lines by the footsteps of time. The jimmy jib will be retracted, the clapboard will be closed for good, the lights will dim upon people whom we hold so dear right now. And all at the same time, we will prepare the very same stage-set for people to saunter in and strut their stuff.

But oh, I don’t want to- and I cannot- imagine that happening to some people in my life. Of course, there is always the promise to keep in touch, but face up to it, how many people really do make an effort to stay in your life? Or maybe it is just me, and that my whole life would be spent chasing after others. It just grows more and more tiring though.

Right now, things are changing so quickly at the workplace: casuals are reduced to working 3 days a week from next week; my sister said I may be able to intern at RazorTV; a few colleagues are becoming more and more annoying. I cannot bear the thought of being separated from HJ, YJ, PL and the ah mas right now. But the eventual time to do so can only draw closer and closer. Ah, that will be talk for another day though. In the meantime, life will run its own course..

Yesterday, I made my first big mistake at work. Even though the others dismissed it as a small matter, I couldn't help feeling disappointed with myself. Why didn't I double-confirm? How could I have the audacity to assume? Oh, the list of things I could have done to prevent it from happening runs on and on, but what mattered most was that I did not. Time and again, I lose to myself. It reminded me of the good old goalkeeping days, where the sting of failing to stop a goal burns everbright in your memory. The smarting tingle that you could have done more, but did not. Ahhh, it is time to reacquaint myself with the feeling of leering hungrily at the ball, at life, egging it to hurtle straight at you and being so damn pumped and alive with anticipation that you just about leap out to smother it- booyah, right back at ya! I miss the game. It made me feel like something.

For the month of March, the days seem to flit pass in a Gaussian blur. They were days upon of days of doing what we were told, doing what we're not told (ie dancing in the most obvious of places), laughing and laughing, perspiring profusely followed by shivering subtly in the breakroom, and idontknow, of plain happiness. I remember wishing sometime a week ago that time would suspend its linear passage and just freeze, elongating the amount of time I would have with my honey & my bunny, the ah mas, the limper and the rest of the Pantages crew. How long would this last, I wonder. I am just grateful for each day.

But more and more often, I wonder if my way of thinking is too simple and my attitude, too nonchalant. Is it a good or bad thing that I don't notice or ignore those little behavioural ticks, those camouflaged intentions? It should be bad, right? It is such a passive and placid way of living: letting contentious matters slide and allowing little to bother me. Oh oh, the cycle of self-loathing is about to commence once again. Where ma pretty Korean boys at!? Even better, it is time to prepare for the outing with some of my favourite people. Excuse me, while I escape from myself.

“Why do anything— why wash my hair, why read Moby Dick, why fall in love, why sit through six hours of Nicholas Nickleby, why care about American intervention in Central America, why spend time trying to get into the right schools, why dance to the music when all of us are just slouching toward the same inevitable conclusion? The shortness of life, I keep saying, makes everything seem pointless when I think about the longness of death” - Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation

My heart wrenched a little after stumbling across this quote. These harsh words speak the blunt truth and oh, many a day, have my mood soured because of these thoughts. The sun will burn out in a billion years (or some big number that is unfathomable using the human concept of time), the earth will probably be barren in some smaller (but still big) number of years, the people, such as you and me, will disappear from this world in a hundred or so years. Ouch, typing that out wrung my heart even more, because there is no escaping the reality. Fuuuuuuuuuuuck. But what else can we do, than to accept those facts and carry on with life? We have no other choice than to live, and to live as gloriously as we possibly can. Why do anything? Why do nothing!? Giving up on such the fussy trivialities and nuanced rituals is akin to giving up on life itself. Why bother hastening the beginning of The Great Unknown, when everything on this face of earth is both familiar and Not Known? So we will die someday, but for today, tomorrow and the day after tomorrow, we will live. We can live; we may live; we should live; we must live, because this is our only chance to do so consciously. And ohmygoodness, I am hoping that Jack Kerouac's On The Road will give me the final burst of determination and courage to live up to my mantra.

Well, the above block came across as very stilted. That is an after-effect of vegetating for too long, perhaps. It has been more than six weeks since I started working at USS. I have been pretty fortunate with the attraction I had been assigned to: the people, the place, the show, the days have been many kinds of wonderful. Much love goes out to my honey and my bunny hahaha, limping ling, the adorable ah mas, and pretty much everyone else at Pantages. So yeah, that's that. Results are coming on this Friday, which I still can't bring myself to give two hoots about. It is either a) retain and retake or b) slide into NUS. I wish I could afford a third option, but no. There is so much shit going on in the 2PM fandom as well. Oh, korean showbiz is such a mess. But it's okay, I will still support Jaebeom and 2PM (1.59/6PM?) no matter what, while growing my love for another fandom, ie U-Kiss HAHA. And I miss soccer girls, S11 people and IDEAS very very much. Uh yeah, cutting it off here because this entry cannot get any worse. Till another timeee.