This song --

while on the bus ride home today,

I realised how beautiful it is.

my heart feels ache-y and hopeful all at once.

it's my song of the moment.

are we all lost stars,

trying to light up the dark...

This is lovely.

Loneliness is simply a price we have to pay

for holding on to a sincere, ambitious view

of what companionship must and could be.

This is from the famous School of Life. I remember coming across a whole corner of The School of Life merchandise at Harrods in London earlier this year, and gushing over everything. The sales attendant was amused.

I just might one day, take off, and go attend random classes around the world.

This is so good.

I really, really am so awed by his amazing attitude.

A lot of us live by societal expectations or by fear, and the rules they impose on us;

he says, think again, question it, is it real.

Anybody who feels crummy, or terrible, or when life sucks --

just watch this and get some inspiration.

This reminds me of another example we read from our book club text, The Element.

In October 1931, a 12-year-old John Wilson had a Bunsen burner accident during a practical lab session at school and was subsequently blinded for life. His parents were understandably distraught. His attitude to life however was nothing short of superb. He swiftly went on to learn Braille, went to an esteemed school for the blind, Worcester College, and excelled as student, rower, swimmer, actor, musician and orator. Then subsequently studied law at Oxford, worked at the National Institute for the Blind, formed the British Empire Society for the Blind (now called Sight Savers International), helped in organizing inoculation of children in Ghana against blindness-causing insect bites, led his organization in conducting millions of cataract operations, dispensed millions of doses of Vitamin A to prevent childhood blindness, and distributed braille study packs to afflicted people throughout Africa and Asia. And he had said, "It did not strike even then (at 12 years old) as a tragedy."



This is one of those moments, you ask yourself, What's your excuse?

Finally watched Oliver Stone's Snowden last night -- 

it was so gripping, despite my having known the story anyway. 

Also, knowing that this is a true story in relatively recent times -- 

makes it that much more exciting.

So cool, really.

!!!

I remember writing once -- and believe me, the epiphanies one can get with writing -- that courage is a muscle. It really is true, isn't it? And this story is another one; the first time you encounter something, it bugs you, but you're afraid because you can't be the only one thinking this or wanting to do this or what if you're wrong. All these just rush through your head, you know? But then as your principles are accosted again and again, and you do that little bit more and little bit more to be brave -- and then you realise, one day, you really are brave enough.

I love that there are such awesome people in the world. Alive today. You know, that they're not all dead and in books.

I wonder if I'll ever get to posting this. It's grown to become a great boulder in my mind, and a burden that's getting heavier and heavier, and I just need to let it out -- but obviously, I have major issues hence the incessant procrastination and oh god --

will I do it. should I just do it.

I've been sitting at this table the whole night task-avoiding by myself; gosh I am such a weirdo -- but in some very deep, certain way, I know I should do this, so the better part of me is forcing me to do this, because otherwise I will be stuck here forever. And oh god, haven't I been stuck here forever as it is --

Goodness, you are probably wondering what on earth S is going on about (with the exception of Datin S who knows that I have been actually agonizing about this for days and days, and months in fact, and I was supposed to get it out while winding down in Seremban, Taman Bukit Blossom, but I had such a mind/heart block that I couldn't and now I'm back in SG) and here I am still procrastinating.



My dear sir. Man. Friend. See, I don't even know -- what the.

History keeps repeating itself, and here I am again, doing something I didn't think I would do again. But I honestly just am at a loss, and this place is where I strive to be authentic, and believe it or not, my skirting this thing on my blog is me being inauthentic, so here I am sort of addressing you but really, this is me just trying to be... real? true? authentic? and getting it out.


How many people have I already confused here.




I have been standing at your door. I'm still standing at your door. When we were younger, having determined my unwanted position, I tried to walk away -- that was when that email came out of the blue (recalling my younger self makes me cringe) -- and for a while I thought I succeeded, but before I knew it, I was where I was before. Still at your door. Since then, I don't know, I don't think I have budged. I have tried. You gave me very good reasons, verbally or otherwise. I gave myself very good reasons. But I am still here.

I have now long given up on trying to make sense of this, of myself. I stopped talking to my friends about it because I didn't need them to tell me I was being stupid; I knew it myself. A common refrain I had for myself: S, you are all levels of stupid. But while it used to be spoken typically in anger and anguish, I have learnt to speak it in loving exasperation.

I have decided to trust my heart. For reasons I cannot comprehend, it has remained stubbornly at your door. Fighting it hadn't worked (and why was I fighting, anyway? okay, S, that's another psychoanalysis for another day) so I'm trying to do this follow-the-lead thing that I often do in therapy with the kids. You know how when you trust something and follow its lead, some nice fine day, it takes its turn and acknowledges you instead -- that's what I'm doing. I will trust myself, until some day, a solution presents itself to me.

None of this mentions what you're doing at the other side of the door. I've always known I have no control over that. You could be ignoring me, you could be utterly clueless (which then hopefully means your eyes shall never lay on this blog post to begin with), you could be secretly pleased and reveling in this, you could think I'm the silliest thing that's graced your doorstep. Or... you could be standing and waiting just as I am. Or keeping the door closed for unknown reasons. I honestly don't know. And I have never asked nor demanded to know -- have I?

I just know, rationally, I can't be standing at this door forever. Please, S, don't. Though that's no guarantee that I won't, looking at the history of my stubbornness. I get the sense that this might stress you out; the last thing I want is for you to open a door you don't want opened. If I wanted, I would have banged down the door already. I am fine. I'll just hang out here by your door, until I'm certain of what I need to do. I'm just saying I don't know how long that'll take...

Unless you do want to open the door. In which case I'll be here for a while still, I think. I care too much about what goes on on the other side.



And now I will put a stop to my butchering this door metaphor to death. Enough, S.

... the good life is a process, not a state of being. It is a direction, not a destination. The destination is that selected by the total organism, when there is psychological freedom to move in any direction.

(Carl) Roger's view was that the good life is not an outcome to be achieved, once and for all, but rather it is a process that we are constantly engaged with and are continually moving towards when we are the authors of our own lives. Rogers described the directions taken by people as they become more fully functioning. These include movement:

• Away from facades
• Away from oughts
• Away from meeting expectations
• Away from pleasing others
• Towards self-direction
• Towards openness to experience
• Towards acceptance of others
• Towards trusting oneself

In these ways we become free to move in a new direction that is most authentic to us.

-- Professor Stephen Joseph, Authentic: How to Be Yourself and Why It Matters

I am in Seremban.

Datin S is making thosai downstairs in the kitchen.

She tells me I should sleep cause it’s holiday, but I just watched Clinton’s concession speech and it made me non-stop cry. I didn’t think I would be so affected but it is a difficult time. The world is a difficult place; but you know what, maybe the world always has been. Sometimes, we just see it clearer, sometimes we forget. We always have a tendency to whitewash the past.

8 years ago fresh into adulthood, I remember E and I chatting away excitedly about Obama, so happy to move on from Bush. And today, this.

Okay, no, I came down and Datin S was just reading, her dad was in the kitchen -- we had appam! Hehe, with coconut milk -- and it was so good. Oh dear, I think I am going to crave this for breakfast back in SG. I feel like I am on an immersion program, Indian-Malaysian version.

So this was in Datin S's room --

(very in character)

We travel not to escape life,

but for life not to escape us.

:)

Will find a time to post again --

this is an entirely chill and laid-back holiday

and it's a ripe time for me to lay out my thoughts again proper.

Sometimes the best posts are made on a whim, on that flash of inspiration, rather than painstakingly thought over, and planned. I have something I've been meaning to post about, but that's for another day. This, this right now is on a whim while I fight sleepiness on a worknight after watching an episode of Scarlet Heart (i.e. the only Korean drama I'm following now; my current kdrama phase seems to be waning -- yes, probably a good thing).

I bumped into S = Shweta on Gchat -- which never happens because I don't even know Gchat is a platform I appear on -- but hey, how wonderful it is to bump into beautiful people I have loved. It makes me think of all the wonderful people I've known in my life and how I don't have the luxury of having all of them with me. My heart aches just a little now. For friends who used to be close but now aren't.

Datin S, you better not be another one of my friends I will lose because of the distance between us. We are only an hour away by plane, okay; it's no excuse.

Isn't it funny who ends up in our lives.





A random thing tonight -- my dad told me he met up with his Arabic teacher and they got to talking about Shaykh Hamza for some reason, and the teacher said, Oh, he's a good friend of mine who comes to visit me at Darul Arqam! And my dad was all like, If he comes again, tell him my daughter wants to meet him.

O.O What is my father doing. Anyway, huh, what do you mean Shaykh Hamza comes to Singapore every so often. Are you kidding me. And uh, I would probably be somewhat awestruck if I ever meet him --

but after that I'll compile a list of questions for him to answer, hehe. Too many times I've come across a situation and felt frustrated about the way people think about things, and then wondered what Shaykh Hamza would have said about it instead. I suppose this is what happens when you really value someone's opinion.


--

Some more randomness from today:

If Harry Potter was anime! hehe this was so funny to share with friends.

E: I thought that Dumbledore would be drawn as a cutesy old person. 

But he was a cutesy kindergartener HAHA.

This was such a nice vlog to watch because ohmygosh, older BTS fans, yesss. 

For a while I was going through a crisis wondering if I was the only overgrown woman loving this boyband -- but no. They are clearly marking themselves as legitimate musical artists that attract people of all ages. And that's the mark of great art, eh -- transcending language, people, ages, and genders (see: Harry Potter as classic example).