Going "home"

'Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore.'

- Dorothy, The Wizard of Oz 

  I'm going home, was what I thought before I sat on that flight. And then I arrived in my home country, and god, there was so much to take in. The sight of things that used to be familiar, new things that I'd never seen before, the changes in the house. It just didn't feel right any more. It didn't feel like home. For the first few days, I missed Australia. I missed the routines that I had created in the past 9.5 months. I had a culture shock coming home. Which sounds ridiculous, I know. But it's true. I felt a legitimate shock at how things worked here. There was a gap in the knowledge I had about how things worked here and the reality of how things worked in the country I was born and raised in.
  So many things remained the same, but they all felt different to me. The height of the drawers, the sound of the card machines on the buses, the frequency of trains arriving at a station, the density of people in a shopping mall. I just wasn't used to it.
  When someone said "home", I thought of my house in Australia and not the one in Singapore. I was surprised that after nine months, I could replace the home I knew for 19 years with the house I hd lived in for 9 and a half months, but I have already done so. And after arriving in Singapore, being exposed to the changes that had occurred within me and the country, I don't really feel home anymore. I'm slightly more comfortable here, but I have to admit that I don't feel like this is home completely.
  Thankfully, I have a number of friendships that require low maintenance, so it hasn't been hard to meet up with my friends and reconnect. But everytime we do meet, I always feel a gap. Because it's already been three-quarters of a year that I've been away. There's so much that has happened in my life that I can't translate using words alone. To use W's words, it feels like my life overseas happened in an alternate universe and no one else from here can fully understand what it's like. To quote Chelsea Fagan, "You cannot be in two places at once." I can only choose to be in one place at one time and it feels like my relationship with my first home is growing distant. It's disheartening to see it happen but I would choose this over being overly attached to my first home and not making the most of the life I have in my second home. I'm starting to feel the bitterness that D warned me about and to be honest, I don't mind it at all. A part of me thinks that being bitter about this place will allow me to feel better when I'm back in Australia. So that I don't feel jealous when I miss out on the things happening here.

Reality

If I don't speak, will my thoughts cease to exist?
If I choose not to vocalize my emotions, is it possible that my feelings can be forgotten more easily?
What happens if I speak out?
What happens when I let my feelings out?
Am I better off staying silent?

Best song to describe my current mood

Empathy

Empathy. The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines it as the ability to share someone else's feelings.

     I want to be an empathetic person. But sometimes, I find it hard to take the view of someone else, especially when I don't agree with that person's opinions. For example, the debate on equal rights for LGBTQ+, or pro-choice vs pro-life. I will proudly declare that I am an advocate for equal rights for those in the LGBTQ+ community and I am pro-choice. 

     Of course, I understand that there are people who don't advocate for the LGBTQ+ community (not that they're against equal rights, but they're in a neutral position) or those who are pro-life. I find it hard to take their stand. To empathize with them. 

     I believe that it's alright to hold your views as long as you don't impose them on other people. But sometimes there's the issue that some people believe you should impose your beliefs on others and others who disagree. So how exactly can I live my life and be respectful of the different views of others? 

     How can I be empathetic? Am I empathetic enough? My mind's a mess right now.

Parenting

Recently, my friends and I were having a discussion on having children and adoption. Two of my friends asked me, on separate occasions, if I didn't get married, would I consider adoption. For a moment, I was puzzled. I don't see marriage and adoption as mutually exclusive dichotomies. Thus, I was perplexed by the way the question was phrased. But I had to remind myself that many people still hold conservative values and believe that raising their own flesh and blood is preferable to raising someone else's child.
A part of me does not want to be a parent. I have written extensively on this subject in my journals. The world is such a messed up place with terrible things happening everywhere. Why on earth would I want to bring another life into misery? Why would I want to subject another being to the dangers lurking the earth? Why would I want to raise a girl in a society that will bombard her with the message that she will never be enough, that she is nothing but a sexual object, that she will be blamed if she falls victim to some kind of sexual assault? Why would I want to raise a boy in a society that tells him he cannot express his feelings freely, that he has to be physically stronger than girls and that he needs to earn more money than girls? Why would I want to raise children in a society that imposes gender roles on them, discriminates people for the pigments in their skin and tells them that life is unfair, they just have to accept it?
I know, far too well, that I do not want to have my own biological children. But lately, I have been contemplating adoption. Because despite how I feel about raising children, I love children. I love spending time with them and teaching them things. It's complicated. I don't want to have my own children because I think I'd love them too much to put them through this screwed up world. But a child without a parent is another story. This child is already in this world. This child should be raised in a loving supportive environment in order for this child to have the best outcomes in life.
But even then, will I be able to make a good parent? And what exactly is a good parent? What values do I wish to impart to my child? There's still so many things I need to consider.

Faith and other things

If anyone asks me, I will tell them that I'm not a believer of any particular religion. If I'm not close to this person, or I am under the assumption that the person will begin a religious debate with me if he/she is not satisfied with my answer, I will say that I'm a free thinker. An agnostic. But truthfully? While I do identify as an agnostic, I also identify myself as an atheist. I don't usually tell people that because the last thing I want to do is spark a theological debate that can last for at least an hour. (Been there, done that.)

I was raised in a Christian family. For 18 years of my life, I went to church, worshipped the idea of god and Jesus. For a very long period of time I never questioned my religion. I never asked why are we doing all of this?  I was aware of the contradictions in the Bible, but I believed the slipshod excuses for these contradictions present. The message of one sermon could contradict another sermon and the lines were blurred sometimes, but I still followed nevertheless. I let confirmation bias rule my thoughts when it came to religion.

The questions begin to start when I was 17. Why are you doing this? What proof is there? Is this reason even valid?It was then that I began to feel that going to church was a chore. At that point of time, I had felt like "god" was no longer with me. I felt like what I was going through was what Christians would term a "dry season".  I began to dread it every week. And it was due to this dread, the lack of emotional highs, that I began to question everything I knew about Christianity.
I began to see that the circular debates and loopholed arguments for what they truly were. I began to see that emotions are easily manipulated and I couldn't trust my gut to tell me whether god was there or not. And so I left.

The second most common question asked to me when people learn that I left church (The most common one is: Why?) was this: How do you feel after leaving church? I felt both ecstatic and frightened. Ecstatic because I was no longer trapped in this mundane cycle that I detested and loathed. No longer bound by the rules of the religions I no longer believed in. But I felt frightened too. Having been raised in an environment that instilled in me the belief that non-believers go to hell, that notion stuck with me far longer than I wanted it to. I had nightmares of being the target of a witchhunt for backsliders. I spent so much time wondering if I was really going to hell. It took me a while to finally get that notion out of my head and I'm so relieved that it's finally gone.

That was a dark part of leaving, but overall, I'm glad for that nasty experience. Because it taught me empathy. Before that experience, I never believed that the environment one grew up in could affect a person to a large extent. When I read of cases of physical or sexual abuse in the newspapers and it was mentioned that the perpetrator had once been a victim, I would snub the fact that the perpetrator had the cheek to mention it. Despite his background, he should still obey the law. No matter what. But now I know, environment can really determine how a person behaves. I began to see how I used to behave as a Christian, aggressively trying to impose my values on others who were non believers. Trying to get people to convert to Christianity. It's such an embarrassing part of my life because I lacked respect for other religions and values. I lacked empathy for others. Now, I see how disrespectful my behaviour was. And I see how context really matters. Because the values you were raised in affect your behaviour. And when these values aren't congruent with the law, clashes will arise.

Decision making

  Just recently, I got myself a ticket for a solo trip. My first solo trip from start to finish, for my 21st birthday. I booked it on an airline that my parents don't have a very good impression of. As I already said, it's going to be a solo trip, something my parents aren't too keen on me doing. I know because I was almost going to do it during my 20th birthday, but they dissuaded me from doing it. I decided to listen to them, because the arguments they made then were logical and on hindsight, I think it was a good thing I didn't go. Half a year of living overseas has taught me so much more about planning trips, budgeting, getting used to cold climates etc. Had I gone during my 20th, I might have been ill-prepared for the trip.

  Initially, I was hesitant about booking it because I guess a part of me is still used to seeking approval from my parents before I do things. I asked my friends about the airline and I was just hesitating about booking the ticket.
Then, I talked to a friend and that conversation helped me realize that I have to stop seeking permission. I am an adult already. That means that the decision maker of my life is me. I have to stop seeking approval and getting other people to make decisions for me. From now on, decision making is my responsibility.

  So I readied myself to book. I filled in all the required details. I was apprehensive about clicking the "CHECKOUT" button. The thoughts: "Should I? Should I not?" kept popping up in my head. Then I took a deep breath, told myself "no regrets" and clicked the button.

  Hello, adulthood.

Language

I've noticed that society tends to have a negative view of using certain choice words. Words that, for some reason, cannot be used by children. Words that invoke a sudden silence once uttered. Expletives, vulgarities are just some of the words used to describe this category of words. But why are these couple of words, out of the hundreds and thousands of words deemed inappropriate for use? If language is a tool for one to express oneself, why is it that some parts of the tool cannot be used even when those parts are in perfect working condition? I have no qualms about using these so called "vulgarities" because I don't see them as taboo. I see them as words that I can use to express my emotions and states. I don't use them recklessly, for words carry meaning and I don't wish to commit multiple malapropisms. I choose my words carefully. I don't like to exaggerate, nor do I like to give unwarranted praise/criticism. But I mean my words. Every one of them. That could also be why people may think that I read into things too much. But it's just automatic.

But I digress. Yesterday, I was really frustrated with myself, stressed out and I said fuck. Which was normal. But what was weird was how my friends said, "That's the first time I heard you swear." But I don't understand. Why is it that this one word will cause my friends to stop and take notice(and silently disapprove), whereas other words are fine. Why do we criminalise words? What is the use of a tool if it cannot be maximised to its fullest potential?

So many questions, but I know I won't be getting many answers today. These questions aren't easy ones to answer. Because sometimes, there is no answer. Or the answer could very well be that these words are deemed taboo and nobody has dared to question them. Or those who did have not been able to convince the majority of society otherwise. 

That's just my two cents.

Integration

Since moving here, I've been attempting to integrate with the locals here. Honestly, I didn't try very hard at the start of this semester and a part of me regrets it. I gave it more effort after about a month of school but it's not going according to my expectations. Maybe I have high standards for myself, like, I have to admit, I'm keeping a count of how many local friends I have. Or maybe I'm really not that integrated yet. Anyway, I shan't waste any more time regretting. Lesson learnt: Be proactive and move out of my comfort zone.

It was difficult to make new friends initially because I had my Singaporean friends to fall back on. They are always hanging out together and it's just too easy to spend most of your time with them because they have so much in common with you. It felt daunting to venture out of that group and start talking to new people, unsure of whether they'd even be interested in a chance of friendship with me. After all, to some of them, I am just a short, average looking Asian who speaks with a accent. Some of them get the misguided impression I can't speak English well. [Note: I'm not putting myself down. I'm just verbalizing what I think they think. Because let's face it, racism exists.] I didn't think about it but I think I should address this issue here because it's everywhere. Racism. I've had people shout at me from cars, honk really loud at me when I was literally doing nothing, but standing on the pavement, not obstructing anyone's way. It doesn't happen often, but it happens. In school, people usually assume that English is not my first language and they have to ask me if it is, but not my Caucasian counterparts. I've had people tell me that I speak English well. At the start, I took it as a compliment. But then I realised, it wasn't. It was just a more subtle form of racism. The person who said it had no ill intention, but the notion that Asians usually can't speak English well was ingrained in her. Racism is everywhere and I think I've become way more conscious of it since coming here because I'm the one discriminated against. I'm made to feel uncomfortable in my own skin simply because of its colour. In Singapore, being the race of the majority, I would point out to people if they were being racist against other races, but I didn't feel very strongly about the issue. I could never truly empathize with them. Until I came here. Now I know what it means to be unfairly treated for something superficial, that I have no control over. I don't think one can ever understand racism until they experience it. But in a nutshell, it sucks, it's extremely unfair and it shouldn't even exist. It's illogical to hold inferior or superior views of people because of their skin colour. I don't really know how else to describe what I feel about it at the present moment. Maybe I'll write another post about this.

Anyway, I digress. So as I was saying, it was difficult to try and make new friends and "abandon" my old ones. But the friendships that I've made so far have been promising and enriching. I'm learning more and more about their culture and lifestyles. A number of people asked me if I have "an angmoh accent" now. And that's the thing I want to talk about. Accents. Everyone has an accent. It just depends on to whom you're speaking to. The fact that I had an accent never really hit me until I came here. Spending all my life in Singapore, my speech sounds the same as that of my peers. There was never a problem with communication then. Then I came here and not only was it sometimes difficult for me to catch what people around me were saying, it was difficult for them them to understand me sometimes too. To them, I'm the one with the accent, not them. It's still hard for me to acknowledge that I have an accent. Theoretically, I know I have an accent, just like everyone else in the world. But somehow, it feels weird to say, "I have an accent. Please let me know if you need me to repeat what I say." Additionally, it is NOT that easy to pick up an accent. I wish it were. I will admit, I speak differently to the locals here and to my Singaporean friends. I'm trying to learn the accent, but it's not easy because I've practiced speaking like a Singaporean for 20 years. I can't just speak like an Australian after 4 months of listening to their speech. It's kind of annoying when everyone keeps asking me because it's a constant reminder of how badly I'm failing at it. 

On the flip side, I know of people who staunchly speak with their native accent by choice. They say that their native accent is no better nor worse than the Australian accent. (Something that all linguists would agree with. No language is more superior than another.) They're proud of their native accent and they will continue to use it. I can understand where they are coming from. I think they are brave to do it. But somehow, I don't think I can do what they do. Although in theory, all accents are equal, in reality, your accent affects how others see you. The moment I open my mouth and the words I say don't sound like how the locals pronounce it, I'm not considered a local, but an Asian who probably can't speak good English. Even my linguistics tutor admitted that he marks our (non-native) scripts more leniently than that of the locals because he assumes that we speak poor English. The accent really makes a difference in how people perceive me. I guess that's why I want to learn the Australian accent. So that I face one less count of discrimination here. 

I'm twenty and still single

As a twenty-year-old with most friends around the same age, I'm seeing more and more of my friends meeting people they're romantically inclined towards, going on dates, getting attached. Meanwhile, my relationship status has stayed the same since I was born. Single. Never been in a serious relationship before, never been even asked on a date before.

I have to admit, I do love being single. I love the freedom I have as a single person. I have one less person I need to account to compared to my friends in relationships. I spend less money because I'm not always going out. I don't need to spend on gifts for anniversaries. The list goes on.

But being single has its ups and downs. I have to admit, I do feel lonely sometimes. When my friends get attached or asked out on dates, I feel genuinely happy for them. But another part of me will wonder, is there something wrong with me? Why is it that they get asked out, but I don't?

Sometimes, I wish that I would be asked out on dates. But the only reason I want that to happen is so that I will feel validated. That I'm not that terrible a person. That it is possible for someone to like me. The fact that I've never been asked out before stings. I have a love-hate relationship with romantic movies. I wish that I could have what the characters in the movie have, but I hate how they have it and I don't.

But deep down, I know, theoretically, that I don't need validation from anyone. I am strong, independent, confident and so much more. I don't need a partner to tell me that I am all that. I would say that I have a healthy relationship with myself. I love who I am and I accept that I'm growing and learning. I have accepted that I can't ever please everyone and so I have stopped bothering about what other people think of me. Most times, I am very single and very happy about it..

But every now and then, feelings of loneliness will emerge. I might spend time questioning my self. Wondering "what's wrong" with me. And that's ok. It's normal to question, it's normal to be down. Ultimately, I am still growing as a person and I am still learning to accept myself completely.

I'm single. Sometimes, I get lonely. But that's ok. It really is.

Consciousness

  What happens when I sleep? Does everything stop?

  When I was about 4 or 5, in the afternoon, as my sisters went to lie down and take a nap, I liked to sit in between them and pat them to sleep. Sometimes, my Ah Gong would play some nursery rhymes on the radio at the same time. It was a very tranquil period of time. Everything was quiet, although my sisters might talk and giggle before they got sleepy. Meanwhile, I would sit there and pat them slowly, following a metronomic rhythm. When they slept, their faces looked so still, and they looked like they were at peace. But I hated how, once they fell asleep, they were gone. They were no longer conscious. They could no longer detect what I was doing. Even if I talked to them, they wouldn't respond. It's like time stopped, but only for them. In that moment, I felt so distant from them.
  Yesterday, I skyped my aunts. My second aunt, who is in a critical health condition, was sleeping. My third aunt asked me if I wanted to see her. I didn't know what to say. To say no would be saying I didn't really care. But to say yes...I don't know what's the point. Even if I saw her, we wouldn't be considered "interacting". Time had stopped for her then.    

Being alone

Recently, I read an interesting article about doing things alone. One of the main points that the author discussed was how doing things alone was socially unacceptable. This point was later driven home when I had a conversation with my friends that reflected the social stigma that the author was bemoaning about. I was discussing my holiday plans with my friends and I had one week that was unplanned and they asked, "What are you going to do for the week? There's no one around." And I didn't see a problem with what they perceived to be a problem. Well, assuming I read them correctly, they could not fathom how I could spend one week alone. I could have started a discussion on how I feel comfortable alone and see no problem, but I chose not to and held my tongue. Instead, I said, "I can meet up with my other friends."

But this shutting up made me even more compelled to discuss this topic, even if it's not with those friends. I don't understand why it's weird or queer to do things in public alone. Many people have this (may I point out that it is misguided) belief that being alone equates to feeling lonely and sad. Maybe they would feel so if they were alone, but this is not the case for everyone. Some people (me being one of them) enjoy their alone time. In fact, I relish it very much. I do socialize and I am predominantly extroverted, but I also need time to just be with myself and my thoughts.
I know of people who absolutely will not eat outside alone, watch a movie alone or study outside alone. Somehow, they don't mind doing these things at home alone, but they believe that there is an unspoken rule that you can't do it in public. These people will judge or pity people they see who do things alone in public. That baffles me very much. I mean, I can understand how you feel about doing things by yourself and I will respect your decision if you have a need to do things in a group. So why can't you respect the decisions of those who choose to do things by themselves? No, they are not always alone because they have no friends. Sometimes, they are intentionally alone. They don't want your pity or judgement. Personally, when I meet people outside, when I'm alone and they ask something along the lines of, "Why are you so sad?" My first reaction is, "I'm not sad!" Because I most certainly am not feeling any form of sorrow. My first thought after that is, "Why the hell are you so narrow minded?" I could retort back and say, "Why are you always with someone? Why are you so needy?" But I won't. But I will feel deeply insulted by your comment. I think most people who are intentionally alone will feel so.

I'm not going to market the notion of doing things alone and encourage whoever who reads this to trying being alone. Because the only life I wish to control is my own. I'm merely asking that you respect how people wish to lead their lives. Pity is not always a good thing. It can be a great insult to those who don't need it.

Learning to move on

       Moving overseas has its perks and its downsides. Many are drawn to the allures of moving overseas, such as the change in scenery, the exposure to a new culture and the opportunity to travel. But many fail to recognize the potential drawbacks of moving overseas. One of them being having to leave your friends behind. Before I left my home country, the thought of missing out on my friends' lives never even occurred to me. I always thought that with the level of technology that we currently possess, distance is merely a concept, not an obstacle. The idea that it was actually an obstacle was first introduced to me when a friend told me leaving her friends behind was one of the reasons why she didn't choose to study overseas. This idea was made more real when W told me about it on one of the occasions that we Skyped. And again, when D told me about her friend who went overseas to study.
       And here I am now, fully understanding what they were all talking about. Moving on is a part and parcel of life. I've travelled to a foreign land to study and live. I'm making new friends, meeting new people and spending my time with them. My friends in my home country are doing the same. They're making new friends of their own, getting closer to their current pool of friends and spending their time with said friends. They don't and won't spend hours just pining for my presence.
       Theoretically, I expected that my friends would move on. But emotionally, I guess I wasn't prepared for what would hit me. It was only when I flew there that it hit me: I had left my entire life behind to come here and I pressed a "reset" button on my entire life. From now on, I have to learn to live with a different culture, build friendships up from scratch and take care of myself. That from now on, most of my friends from home and I will only grow further apart, not in the other direction. And I have to accept that. To accept that we won't spend as much time together. To accept that when we do, we'll find fewer things funny together, fewer topics of interest and we'll experience longer lulls in conversation. To accept that meet ups will be replaced by calls, then texts, then birthday wishes on Facebook and one day we may no longer be Facebook friends even. It's a frightful thing, knowing what could happen to your friends in the years to come. It hurts too. But moving on is a part and parcel of life. And the ending of friendships not only reflect that friendships are transient, but lets you better appreciate your friendships. Because it teaches you how valuable and precious friendships can be. It teaches you that everyone has different phases in life and at each phase, you'll meet different people who will teach you something about yourself and about the human condition.
      Moving overseas is a bittersweet affair. There are ups, there are downs and I'm learning to accept both. But that doesn't mean that I'm numb to getting emotional when I think about the growing distance between me and my friends. I still feel the hurt and I still experience the fear that I will lose the ones I love, but I'm allowing myself to experience these emotions and accept it as a part of life.

"To live in a new place is a beautiful, thrilling thing, and it can show you that you can be whoever you want — on your own terms. It can give you the gift of freedom, of new beginnings, of curiosity and excitement. But to start over, to get on that plane, doesn’t come without a price. You cannot be in two places at once, and from now on, you will always lay awake on certain nights and think of all the things you’re missing out on back home."

         -Chelsea Fagan, What Happens When You Live Abroad 

     
        
     

Independent Living

       I never realised how hard it was to live with someone that you didn't grow up with. Growing up with my family, we got upset with each other every now and then, but when I've lived 20 years with them, I learned to accept their quirks and it just became a part of my life. The lifestyle habits of my parents become quickly ingrained into mine. I grew up being used to the habit of drinking boiled water, buying meat at the grocery store last, choosing the carton of milk that was positioned at the back of the fridge. I grew up accepting the my sisters' habits of eating over the keyboard, leaving their empty cups that were previously filled with sweet drinks on their tables and throwing their food wrappers in the living room bin. I didn't like it, but I tolerated it.
       Now, living in a new house, with a person that I've never lived with before, I'm learning a lot. I'm learning more about the quirks my housemate has, I'm learning which lifestyle habits of mine seem queer to her and I'm learning to compromise.
       Moving out taught me a lot about independence. For starters, it isn't as glamorous as it seems. Clearing food waste and hair from the sink, unclogging a toilet bowl filled with faeces and killing insects? Welcome to independent living! It's a breeze!
       Jokes aside, living independently from your family is uncomfortable. There's no one who is ready to take care of you if you fall ill, less people to share the load of household chores and you have to adapt to different eating habits. Foods that you love might be foods that your housemate detests. I'm not saying its terrible and I hate it, but I have to learn to accept a less comfortable lifestyle. Nevertheless, I believe that it's been a great learning experience so far. It's teaching me to be a better team player and to be less selfish.
       Working with your housemate can be likened to working with a team member. Communication, compromise and consideration are very important factors in building a good relationship with your house mate. At least that is in my case.
       Communication lets the other party know exactly what you're feeling and prevents incidences of unspoken expectations. For example, when we first moved in, we had conflicts in certain living habits of ours. Voicing out our expectations of each other and what we were or were not comfortable with let us know what irked each other. I will admit, I'm not the most careful dishwasher and my sense of hygiene is not as high as J's. But she let me know whenever she felt that my cleaning was not up to standard and I adjusted accordingly. Similarly, I didn't like how J raised her voice significantly at me and I told her. It improved our relationship because that's how we found out how each of us felt when we acted a certain way.
       Compromise is another important factor. My eating habits are vastly different from J's. I like brown rice, she can settle for white. There are foods that I eat and she doesn't, vice versa. But we've learnt to compromise, mixing brown and white rice, I've accepted that I can't eat spicy foods for communal meals and she's accepted that I don't eat processed food. Having everything done your way only would be unsustainable. There has to be give and take in any relationship in order for it to last.
       Lastly, there's consideration. I've learnt to think of myself less and think of J more when doing grocery shopping. Remembering to ask her if she needs me to get anything when I'm going to shop alone, doing the cooking or cleaning when she's busy and she does the same for me.
       I won't say that we have a perfect relationship and that we don't fight. We do argue. We do have conflicts. But eventually we compromise. We make up. We put the fights behind us. We've argued over both small and big things. In fact, the most trivial matter that we've ever argued over was whether or not to add a stalk of spring onion to our dinner. But we have good times too. Just today, we spent the whole morning baking and quilling paper. I'm glad that I have J around to share my life with. I'm thankful for her being there for me when I get stressed and for teaching me to be more considerate and less selfish. For lending me her clothes, for closing my windows when it rains in the middle of the night, for cooking for me when I'm busy and bringing in my laundry when it rains. I couldn't have asked for a better housemate. Thank you, J. :)

Pet Peeves

       Pet peeves. Who doesn't have them? I believe that almost everyone has things that irritate them and I'm no exception to the rule.
       What are my pet peeves? Obvious statements and redundant questions
       When people make obvious statements, they tend to expect an answer. But honestly, I don't know how to respond. When you say, "Oh! You've cut your hair!", do I really need to waste my breath to validate your statement? The only response you've left me with is "Yeah." But I'm not gonna let you put me in a corner. So when you make statements like that, especially if we've already known each other for a while, I'm gonna put you in a spot and say "No, my hair grew backwards." or something like that. Don't take it personally. That's just how I deal with obvious statements.
       Additionally, I loathe redundant questions. Questions that I deem redundant are those that have answers that are obvious, are repetitive in nature or have absolutely no value to conversation. Examples of those questions in the first category are questions like, "Are you eating lunch?" when I take out my lunchbox. "Bruh...no, I'm having dinner," is probably how I'll respond to you.
       Questions in the second category are questions that are asked one after another with different phrasing, but basically ask for the same information.
       Questions with no value to conversation? I guess this is harder to distinguish, but, these questions tend to be quantitative in nature. To quote The Little Prince, "Grown ups love figures. When you tell them that you have made a new friend, they never ask you any questions about essential matters. They never ask you, "What does his voice sound like? ... Instead, they demand: "How old is he?" Only from these figures do they think they have learned anything about him."  You won't learn much about me by knowing how I cooked my lunch, or which places I want to visit. But trust me, you will learn much more if you ask me why I cooked my lunch the way I did, or why I want to travel to the places on my wishlist.
       Maybe this will seem like a rant to you. I don't know, maybe it is a rant. But it's just something I wish people would know if they wanted to know me better. It would save a lot of time that would be otherwise wasted in  meaningless conversation.

On writing

So before I flew overseas to commence my studies, I remember a couple of friends asking me to write a blog so that I could keep them updated on what went on in my life.

"Why bother?" I thought. I felt that it was unnecessary to do so as I could simply tell them what went on in my life via text, Skype, FaceTime etc.

I am writing this not because my next words are, "I was wrong, you guys can tell me "I told you so!"." I'm writing this anecdote because I wish to say to all my friends who were just mentioned, I didn't write this blog for you guys to get updates on my life.

I started this blog with the intention of having a space for me to present my thoughts. Thoughts that I do wish to be heard, but I don't plan to say out loud to people's faces all the time (especially those whom I don't know very well) as I don't wish to be rude.

This isn't going to be a travel blog, but more of a journal that will collect open letters that I write, to anyone who wishes to read it. So if you're interested in knowing my goes on in my mind, welcome. And if you're not interested, you can move along. I won't get offended. Just don't get offended if I'm not interested in your thought life. :)