Try

Hohoho. Merry Christmas. Hohoho. 

Welcome back to reality of university applications due January 1st.

Hohoho to you my friend.

Pretty morbid, you may say.  I would agree because that is what I hear every time the thought of the university applications flash by my mind or someone reminds me of the beckoning deadline.  I don't blame them.  In fact, I have no one to be mad at, really.  It is what it is.  I am not going to write another paragraph of insinuating comments about how wonderful it is to do this when any traces of Christmas spirit is still inside me or the fact that I probably have two short weeks to study for my exam-both fact, if you were wondering. No, I guess I've had enough bad energy in my system to last a very long time if I keep on thinking about it.

I can go on about procrastination and last minute work but looking back on my past month, I do see instances where I could have spared a couple more hours solving those Math equations or cracking my head open in writing that uni essay of what makes me different from the 5, 000 other uni applicants attempting to do the exact same thing.  BUT, I didn't.  Because I used those times for other things which many would disagree with but in which case, I would regard it as moments which have kept me sane, alive and ready to face every day's battle.  Whether it was just a lazy Sunday to unwind and have my space in my room doing nothing, random excursions with friends where eye-opening conversations happen out of the blue or the joy of making a small mural in my room just because I wanted to.  It is these very things that have kept me happy and the little things and chunks of conversations that I cross paths with daily are what make my day, my day.  And if anyone were to take that away from me, it would be very possible.  But I would just know that I would be less happy and less of who I am today.

So, this is where I'm at.  Whether I like it or not.  6 US colleges. 6 essays to be written-give and take by new year's day (before even).  And I've always liked the idea of being someone who can just instantly come up with a brilliant piece of work in an hour, but I am not.  I roam around my fluffy mind and think, think and think like it's nobody's business and twirl the words and bits of what I want to say until I find that "click".  Or I find that something inside me or that picture in my head of seeing that piece come to life.  I feel it's so romanticised and poetic, too good to be true even.  Perhaps ringing in some scoffs of disbelief but I guess at this point, I don't really care about judgements of outsiders because there are a lot more pressing matters to deal with.  And I shall give my best in whatever I can find within myself today and all the days to come and just, literally, pour my soul out into every piece of writing I am capable of doing because it frustrates me to no end to write things half-heartedly, even if I notice it at the time or not.

And so, this is me just warming up at the tracks as I am about to tackle this race.  HOPEFULLY, I can look back on this when it is over and laugh at my slightly mocking self of the whole system that people who you may have never met in your life will determine your acceptance to a university through assessment of mere words on a sheet of paper (or maybe a computer screen). There are many things that trouble me but I know that it is not the time to think about it so I shall keep focused on the task at hand.

Wish me luck for this race of mine.  A race I am so daunted by and have no idea how it will end or whether I will be able to finish it but what I have, some say is more powerful than all of this, and it is faith.  Faith in God that somehow, somewhere in the midst of concerned parents, blank pages of essay questions and the need to give the best that I am capable of giving in such a short time span, 

I shall prevail.

And prevail, I shall try.

My Whisper

Sometimes, when you spend too long a time in a certain place or with a certain person, you tend to form pristine conclusions on what the place can hold or who the person is cut out to be but sometimes, I feel it is not the case.  And I guess so far, I have done a pretty okay job in keeping the positivity in my writing.  Because I wanted to and because it was what I was feeling at the present time.  But it does not mean that happiness is the only feeling I hold.

And sometimes, I guess it is frustrating to find the world frowning on you for having "bad" feelings, acting "inappropriately" and making a "mistake".  We have been so attuned to this that we automatically shake our heads when we see people losing their cool or control over a situation and assume it to be their fault or their '"flaw".  It just frustrates me that we isolate moments like these as moments that define that entire person.  It frustrates me that sometimes the only person that can understand what you are going through entirely is yourself and how terrible humanity's empathy can be at times when people need it the most.

I get frustrated at the times when people have a fixed picture in their head and whenever something comes along that doesn't match everything that they have learnt or have been fed with, they condemn it and roll it around their tongue towards an angle that is favourable to them just because they are too insensitive to care.

And sometimes, it is off-putting to find people who read this and jump to a hasty conclusion that I am angry. And fail to take one more step to understand why I am feeling this way and whether my thoughts and opinions even make any sense.  Or have their menacing labels of "angry", "emo", and "bad" cloud their vocabulary so early on that they are blinded no matter what I say here?

Truth is, I don't think people should ever be defined as a singular entity their entire lives that we seem like gods-people who are not able to fall down, to be angry, to be sad and to think anything but happy thoughts. It is not a trait we are relatively proud of. But it is a trait that exists in this world.  And it is a part of us.  It is a part of me.  Failure to acknowledge this is ignorance.  Until people start realising that one can never really just cut out portions of their selves, feelings and essentially who they are, and tailor them to become who people or society define as good.  The only thing we are capable of doing is to acknowledge our flaws and keep on improving.  To have the willingness to betterment but nowhere do we acknowledge that perfection is the only synonym to success.  It is that gumption to keep on striving for it is what matters.

So, this is me stripped down from all the care of what people may think of me.  Because composure has its goodness but I believe it takes so much more courage to be able to step up the podium and just let people know who I am.  What I believe in.  And what my principles are.  Despite of so many voices telling me what the whispers behind my back and two-faced glances may entail. Because true courage does not care for the unnecessary. 

I am a person who finds joy in the little things but it doesn't mean that I cannot be angered by the stubbornness of humanity (including myself). And this is me.  Take it...or just close your eyes and just keep on walking in a different direction...before I can't fight the urge of asking you what your thoughts are.  Because I am the most terrified person you'll meet in anticipating what people think of me because I just cannot be one of those people who couldn't care less.  But I am learning.  From everything.  

Just wanted to say that.  Thank you if you are listening.

"Courage is to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart." - Brene Brown

Still Finding My Way

It's funny how you can sit in front of the computer screen all day and still feel so exhausted, at least mentally drained. Because that is exactly how I feel.  At the beginning of these series of posts, I wasn't very sure how things would turn out or how in the world I was to do justice to my stories.  And I always have that feeling that there is so much more to tell, so many flaws to rectify with an insufficient amount of time in my hands.

But I guess I am changing, in a way.  I find myself more accepting of myself-the good and the bad.  I feel my love for art and people have expanded infinitely and intertwined together to form this ball of intense joy I get in producing art for people I love.  Because of how much heart I try to put into everything I make.

I guess I've also learnt to not push myself too hard.  It's hard to find the perfect balance between too little and too much but I am constantly trying. :) I shared this in an e-mail I replied to someone which I felt was a powerful lesson I attained from all of my experiences combined and that is: 

Sometimes, things don't go our way.  But it's OKAY.  The only thing that really matters is our COURAGE to get back up, dust the bad energy off and just keep on going.

The thing about life is that there is no definite beginning and end but rather shifts in your focus on things.  The past few weeks especially the most recent one has been gogogo that I don't even remember being spared time to breathe.  This is why I felt it so necessary for me to write all this down-find a space for me to just exude all my thoughts, feelings and memories through my eyes, before I get too caught up and fail to miss the beauty in everything that has occurred in my life and the lives of others; before I allow anyone else to change the picture of the way I look at things and life.  Know that this is just one raw account and there are countless more perspectives of the same story yet to be told and messages yet to unfold.  Even my perspective is subject to change. But for now, this is mine-one of the things I can call purely my own.  It will never be a perfectly complete account but as I have learnt, it is okay.  And may you take away from it what you can.  And keep on learning.

Till then,

Andrea. (:

3. At the Right Place At the Right Time

The high-pitched sound of the speeding train is almost non-existent to me.  I am propped up on a cushioned seat on the 28-minute express train ride to Kuala Lumpur International Airport (KLIA) and it is 30 minutes to midnight.  Flashes of one of my best friend's first lunch at Subway, a diagram of a hanging pendulum from my Maths class and the blurry city lights I saw from riding shotgun with my friends hurling conflicting instructions in the midst of a torrential downpour all coax me to disappear into my world as I always do.  But not tonight.  My flight is 12 hours away but here I am sitting beside my overweight suitcase, accompanied by a friend who said I was stupid to have wanted to take this journey alone in the middle of the night.

I think by now, YOU, dear reader, will be wondering why things are still not making sense in this story of mine.  So, allow me to fill in the gaps.  And if you are still wondering, no, this is not fictional.

*

*inhale* I've always been interested in the idea of a chain reaction and the reoccurring butterfly effect in our lives. But never have I felt that the occurrences that took place seemed so much like a novel, as if every character appeared at the right place at the right time.  Except this time, it was reality.

It was such a joy having two of my best friends spend some time in KL.  It was such a pleasure having them.  It was like a breath of fresh air having them after a wonderful yet tiring bump in week-the busiest week of my life.

Monday morning saw us bidding farewell to Amber while I took Bev around my residence.  My prior weeks were back-to-back and I didn't even have time to send my laundry.  This would explain my 15-minute packing spree for my 11 am flight the next day when I showed her my room.  Was glad to give my bestie a good tour around college, grab her first meal at Subway, photocopy 10 sets of Lit documents and accompany Bev back to her hotel-all in time for my 2.30 pm Maths class.  I felt like superwoman.  But, perhaps, it was too soon for me to jump to conclusions.

In spite of a Production party I had at 7 pm, I just really really wanted to meet up with another two of my good friends who were done with their last semester.  Even if it meant having two dinner dates.  :)  As with many of our awesome conversations, it took an unsuspecting turn to them agreeing to send me to the party and meet Bev afterwards.  Always fond of the idea of bridging the gap between my friends in KK and those in KL, I jumped at the idea and called Bev.  That is when I discovered, to my horror, that Amber's flight was cancelled and she was left stranded in the airport till Tuesday.  The string of events that occured after this happened so fast that I have been replaying it in my head like a looped video just in case I find myself losing any of those memories.

I remember deciding that I was not going to let my best friend stay overnight in an airport alone.  I felt horrible that I was helpless, but I did the only thing I could do: be by her side even if it meant travelling 60 km to the airport at 11 pm after the production party.  I remember getting back to my residence at 10 pm, throwing everything I could think of into my suitcase and circling my room 30,000 times for fear of forgetting something.  I remember my friends, who so willingly stayed on, come up to help me bring my stuff down and of all the nights the security guard could be on watch, they chose that night to knock on my door and tell me visitors were not allowed at night.  The next thing I knew we were on our way to KL Sentral only to find that three of us had no clue which road to take to get there but with a little faith, we found our way. :)

And that, in essence, is how I ended up on a train in the middle of the night jetting to the airport 12 hours before my flight. *exhale*

*

I guess if you're reading this, you'll probably shake your head and heave a sigh of relief that this did not happen to you.  Or look at this and sympathise on my horrible predicament.  But truth is, all those adjectives an outsider would use to describe my situation (horrible, unfortunate, disastrous, terrible) are not the words I felt did justice to the situation I was in.  In retrospect, sure, I fell sick afterwards (like I swallowed a rock), skipped a night of sleep, might have forgotten some things in my room but I learnt that only when we are capable of overlooking these minute problems and realise the more wondrous picture that is in place, can we truly learn to live.  If my friends hadn't insisted on meeting Bev, I wouldn't have called and found out that Amber was stranded overnight.  If I had not decided to have dinner with them, I wouldn't have had a ride to KL Sentral to catch a train to the airport.  And if all of this didn't happen, I wouldn't have realised how invaluable were the beings God had placed in my life whom I call friends.  This experience is one in a million of happenings (too numerous to mention all) that have shaped 2012 for me.  Friendship and its value has been magnified this year especially in the absence of family and old friends as I embarked on a journey across the sea from my home.

I don't think many of my friends will ever come across this post but I would just like to dedicate this to them nonetheless:

A-Levels was not my first choice and its system isn't exactly one which I wholly agree with but looking back on it now, I finally realised what a shame it would have been if I opted out of it.  If I had not come to HELP, I would not have crossed paths with the most eclectic mix of friends that continue to inspire, motivate, make me laugh, moan and share stories with me.  Those who have known me before college are attuned to my calculative and organised self.  But I feel college has definitely added a pinch of spontaneity in me which I can't get enough of and which I can truly claim as a part of me. 

There were so many instances that I couldn't imagine my old self doing:

go for a Kina Grannis concert and bump into strangers-turned-friends, 

random food excursions,

support my friends' gig at a Halloween party,

take a road trip to Malacca to celebrate Deepavali, 

act as a tour guide for my KL friends visiting Sabah,

get up at 1.30 am just to make a birthday card, 

play charades at our Lit lecturer's house,

rediscover my confidence and love for music,

receive so much love on my birthday,

have late night conversations about how crazy, annoying and amazing life is till 4 am in the morning, surprise a friend with a GUITAR for her birthday, and most importantly, realise how much beauty and love one person holds if you just give them a chance to show you instead of letting first impressions blind you from who they really are.  It is all of this that has made me take up so much time just to put my feelings into words and it breaks my heart even at the thought of knowing that I have to close the chapter of this beautiful story.

Thank you to all my friends in college for your pretty smiles and warm embraces.  Know that in every embrace and smile, I wish to convey my sincerest thanks and love for taking time off (whether you intended to or not) to be part of my life whether it was for 1 second or 1 year.  I have always wished to impact your lives as much as you have impacted mine.  I hope I have done at least a fraction of that.  You guys are what make my college days bearable and I am glad to have many partners-in-crime as we fight these exam battles together.  I am aware that I have such an odd mix of friends that perhaps don't share all the same opinions and ideas but I'm glad that you have taught me to find the blessing in every and any situation even in the darkest of times.    Everything that has happened was meant to happen and thank you for being there at the right place at the right time. *wink*

Also, not forgetting my two rocks in the midst of the hurricane, Amber and Bev, I need no further words to express how blessed I am to know that I can always come back to you guys.  Thank you so much for the lovely birthday and Christmas presents.  It feels so good to be loved and to have people notice the little joys you find in life. :B I am so glad to show you a glimpse of my life for the past two years,  Hope you had as much fun as I did.

And as one of my friends told me, it never really is goodbye, just see you later.

So, with that, I shall part with these wise words:

See you later, my friends!

2. Keep Calm and Be Dramatic

The phrase above was coined by our lovely Lit lecturer, Ms. Cris.  If you know me, the word 'dramatic' isn't exactly the first word that comes to mind.  Here's my analogy: Perhaps Life shared the very same sentiments and figured that because I was nowhere near dramatic, he decided to be dramatic for me? 

And that, he very well did.

The HELP A-Levels Annual Production has been the biggest project I have ever spearheaded in my life to date because of its far-reaching audience-teenagers, college students, lecturers, parents, adults to even strangers. I'm not even exaggerating.  To even think about what has happened throughout the process of these six months already blows me away.  I still think I am so unworthy to tell you this story.  I feel a more experienced storyteller or thespian should narrate this tale.  Nonetheless, this fear and courage (or moxie, as I like to phrase it) garnered are the very things that keep me going and believing in things I never knew I was capable of doing.

I am forever grateful for the immense joy, pain, laughter and disappointment I shared with the pioneers of this year's production-Thessa and Isabelle.  Yes, we did have a little experience from last year's production but that was it, thriving on sheer love and enthusiasm.  Never have I had more insightful conversations on life and the production than with Thess-it amazes me how we meet at similar wavelengths in our beliefs and the occasional silent acknowledgement of what the other is thinking without the need to express ourselves.  Working with Izzy has been another pleasure as she astounds me every day with her organisational skills.  Without her, I do not know how I could have multi-tasked and our walkie-talkie conversations, though occasionally intense, were the most memorable moments.  Be it screaming "What the hell!" when the lights went on before the props crew exited the stage to conversations like this:

Izzy: Andrea, will you be standing beside me during the actual play when I give the cues?
Andrea: Um, yes, I think I will be.  Just ushering people in now. Why?
Izzy: Oh, nothing. Just asking.  I just feel better when you're by my side.
*MY HEART JUST MELTED* :3

Our blood, sweat and tears: debates on the perfect script, feverish efforts of recruiting a team and hour-long arguments over the consequences of choosing one person over the other.  Knowing that the people auditioning are also your friends and realising your studies is on the line, there came a time when I'd grudgingly remark through gritted teeth, "Yes, this is my life."

From an abrupt switch of actors to crew members oblivious of my 20 text messages, managing people has been a skill and knowledge that has been sharpened throughout this project.  Saying that I am a patient person isn't too far from the truth but the people I worked with brought it to a whole new level of not chopping someone's head off.  But having said that, there were a fare share of  amazingly efficient people who have inspired me to self betterment.  I learnt to let little ripples in the fabric go and pay attention to the bigger picture-to gauge when my OCD was getting out of hand.  You have no idea how big a deal this is for a person who gets flustered at the littlest things.

Ticketing sales saw me receive an extremely angry e-mail questioning my leadership skills but I refused to allow my self-deprecating tendencies to consume me.  Partly because I knew I couldn't stop now and partly because I had this whisper in my head telling me that I was more than just one person's opinion.  My love for everything we've worked for was bigger than a hiccup on the road.

Opening show: the spotlight failed 30 minutes before showtime. Opening night: our main actor almost fainted during a run-through.  All of this chaos took place right smack in the middle of my History mocks coinciding with the last day of the Production.  Looking back on it now, I sometimes wonder how I got up each day at 6 am, went through the day's itinerary and got back at 11 pm just in time for a little bit of sleep.  I remember laying in bed at midnight on Thursday thinking of the 8 am History mock I was about to sit for.  Not fully prepared and filled with utter FEAR, a million and one thoughts entered my mind - fever, overslept, too tired from Production and so many more excuses coursed through me as I bemoaned my horrible predicament.  But when the hour finally came, I just felt that I had to do it.  I felt that I'd be letting all the people who said I couldn't do it off the hook so easily.  I was more than a grade on a piece of paper and definitely more than a coward who ran away from her problems.  I guess I felt the need to reassure myself that this is who I am: When I say I will put my best foot forward in the Production, I will do it. But I will not compromise my principles in spite of the exhausting circumstance I was in because I am not one to quit.  No, no matter how scared I was and how uncertain I was of the outcome, I just stinking sat for the paper.  I faced it.  Because I wanted to be what I stood for: courage is not the absence of fear but rather the judgement that there is something more important than fear.

And you have no idea how liberating and satisfying it is to accomplish that in spite of the critics scrutinising your every move but only having seen you in isolation of everything that you are going through.  Perhaps sometimes people are tempted to extract bits and pieces of your life as they see fit to tailor a conclusion that is easy for them to comprehend but more often than not, it is very far from the truth.  And if I could say one thing to someone who is juggling many things, I think Ted Roosevelt phrased it perfectly:

"It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat."

Thank you, God.  You are amazing.

1. This is Not a Joke

I started out the year with my second semester which was crazily chaotic that I thought I would perish in the process.  I didn't realise that all of it was just peanuts to what the third semester had in store.  Basically, this year turned my life upside down, shook it vigorously out of its senses and then did another unsuspecting turn before returning to the right side up.

People say that A-Levels is a strenuous course, one that should not be toyed with.  They say that you'd be lucky to survive.  I beg to differ.

I say taking the humanities AND the sciences in A-Levels while juggling responsibilities for the A-Voice editorial board and producing the HELP's annual production is literally asking for trouble.  I guess you can call me crazy for jumping when everyone says you'll never make it...but I do it anyway because of the genuine passion, fire and love burning in me.  Ever felt so compelled to execute something because you can't picture yourself doing anything else? Exactly how I feel.

While I join my Math buddies in calculating the time taken for the ball to reach its greatest height, I find myself also trying to skim through a 40-page article in 15 minutes to find points I can use for my History presentation.  Below this assignment, you will find yellow flashcards strewn over my desk with a picture of the synaptic cleft and little dots that we term as neurotransmitters.  All of which needs to be looked at for the "pre"-mock the next day.  As much as this combination excites me, this year has definitely taught me that doing something out of the ordinary, requires an out-of-the-ordinary work ethic.  I learnt not to scream "Injustice!" when people complain about the Biology practice questions to be done when I have a presentation on Classical Poetry in addition to that due the same day.

I have learnt so much from all of this.  Biology has gotten me thinking endlessly about how habituated and desensitised the human race has become.  The trips to the lab entailed my first full-fledged drink of black coffee (I found nothing appealing about it though) and ignited my envy of snails-beings capable of shutting the world out by disappearing into their shells.  But more so,   Literature and History has gone so perfectly together in exploring every facet of war; be it physical, psychological, emotional, financial or economical.  It shifts the way we look at things-as dire as war may be, Hosseini's The Kite Runner surprised me with an overriding message of hope which I did not expect.  Made me realise that perhaps there always is a silver lining in the cloud.  It's a just a matter of whether we see it or not.

This year, in terms of mere academics, was tough.  It was as if God designed the most difficult terrain for me to scale, as if asking me to live up to what I say I believe in.  To prove that I am not a joke.  To not just preach my love and belief of embracing humanities and sciences as equals, but actually live by example.  And in truth, that is exactly what I did.  No, I did not sail through smooth waters boasting about how wonderful the arts were and how horrible the sciences were. NO.  I actually poured out my everything to every class I went to and failed many times.  I gained many bruises and blisters but treated it as a novelty.  There were many times I questioned myself and became frustrated for thinking I could do it, and there were times I thought I actually made a wrong decision in opting for the road not taken.  It has been a battle of the mind which will continue to be fought, but one which I strive to pursue because of the adversity many of my friends and I felt was worth overcoming.

I guess this academic year questioned the importance I held for my studies.  I found myself backtracking to all the things I said about family and friends and my passions being things of equal importance.  And then realised how ridiculously hard it was to divide my time as well as handle the inevitable comments of onlookers and friends alike.  But I did it.  Maybe with several broken oars on my boat and more drifts off-course than expected, but I did it.  I proved to myself that I could indeed embrace and value my family, friends, passions and my studies individually with care.  I am so far from being a master at this.  I don't even know if I can call myself a novice.  But what I can proudly say is that I have learnt so much about how hard it is to stay true to what you believe in when you realise even the whole system is not in your favour.  But the whole idea of it is to keep on going.  No matter what.

And that, is what matters.

Finding My Way

A couple of days back, I watched Life of Pi.  And as I tried thinking of how to start this, the only image that kept coming back to mind was Pi's worn face pressed on the cool white sand after crawling back to civilisation.  He seemed so drained and weary that he'd pass out any second-he eventually did of course.

If I were to describe how I felt as I walked into the embrace of my dad upon arrival at the airport yesterday, that momentous thud onto the sea bank as Pi exerted the last ounce of energy in him would be the best description of what I was feeling.  I felt so tired and worn; the most exhausted I had ever been in my entire life-mentally and physically.  A culmination of a week full of unimaginable and unexpected occurrences that consumed me-it drained me empty but in return, gave me the best experiences and lessons I could ever ask for.  And if you took another step back, you could see the beautiful picture of what my whole year looked like: a complicated yet intricately complex string of events, faces, feelings and places.  God had done it again-so unpredictably, so amazingly that I am yet again overwhelmed.

But just like Pi, enduring turbulent waves and unbelievable swash-buckling adventures aren't things you can fully digest and take in overnight.  And it is also an amalgamation of tales that cannot be done justice to by a single blog entry.  As I pen out the memories and experiences that still drug my mind on an exhilarating high, I do believe it is not the end.  And although I may somehow conclude this year, the lessons and my knowledge on all things continue to change and evolve.  Just like everything in this world.

2012 has not ended.  But I realised, with all stories and experiences, I have a tendency of dwelling on them for extended periods of time after it has happened-a boon and a bane, to tell you the truth.  So, I guess, you may call this entry a prologue of what is to come.

I have safely returned home, for now.  And am filled with excitement and anxiety to share with you the amazing adventures and stories of people and things that I have encountered this year.  They have all inspired me to be me.  May you, dear reader, get something out of this, no matter how small the message may be.

From the heart,

Andrea.

Crossroads

I have been staring at my blog entries - my past experiences that have moulded me thus far.  I have been typing a string of sentences on a blank post and subsequently "backspacing".  If there is one word to describe how I feel right now, it would be ambivalent.  Except, instead of being torn between two decisions, I feel myself being pulled in a million different directions.

These few months - in fact - this whole year has been overwhelming.  So overwhelming that every time I sit myself down to attempt to write about it, fear gets the better of me.  Fear of not doing justice to every BEAUTIFUL lesson I have learnt.  Fear of not pouring my heart and soul in sharing with you how much love and joy I have found in the people I have met.  Fear of not painting as perfect a picture of how God has crafted my year.  Sigh.  Fear of admitting that God has proven me wrong again because this year is coming extremely close to beating 2011. (Yes, I ask myself time and time again: How is that even possible?!) See what I have to deal with?

Ah.  Well.  I am evidently at crossroads; it's like everything that I have known myself to be and everything new I have absorbed from this astounding year are just blinking viciously at me.  I guess this is just me putting myself out there and telling you that I am in the process of garnering enough courage in me to tell you another one of my stories.  But first, allow me to try and...figure things out; figure myself out.  Because things. are. overwhelming. (If it is any consolation, all of it is positive energy.  And I find myself thanking God for every blessing-big or small alike)

So, with fingers crossed and whispers of prayers under my breath, I shall return very soon. But for now, I shall leave you with a thought.

The other day I was walking to college with my earphones on.  You know those moments when you seem like you're looking at something but actually you're a million light years away, in your own bubble of thought? Yea, that was me.  And I was just thinking.  Thinking about how many people around me did I know.  How many of them who were utter strangers to me, would one day be someone important to me: a friend, a lab partner, a good confidant.  

How was it that the same person I may have brushed shoulders with a year ago, may be the same person I stay up talking to till the wee hours of the morning in another life, another season, 6 months from our first encounter?

It astounds me and I continue to find myself dumbfounded by these two words: Stranger and Friend.  How does it happen? Is it just by mere conversation? Common interest?  Accidental confrontation?  Why didn't we see it coming?

There are many more things I can't wait to share.  This is just one of them.

Oh, God, you work in wondrous ways.  Wondrous, indeed. (:

A Different Kind of Courage

"Courage is to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart."

It's funny how I go absent for half a year and finally find something in me to start writing again. I guess the series of encounters I've had this semester has gotten me thinking - as it always has with the weird workings of my mind. I had a good conversation with a friend a while back about what it means to stay true to yourself. And she surprised me with her take on things.  It was then that I realised how it takes people looking from the outside to tell you what they see. More often than not, their perspective may surprise you.

Looking at my journey in retrospect, I guess there is much change in it.  I remember my Biology lecturer once said that the only constant thing in science is change. And if you were to define science as the study of life, then it would read that life itself is always changing. See what I just did there? ;)

I guess being raised in an Asian society entailed a very academic upbringing. An environment I found many of my peers dreaded.  With the ultimate pressure in success being defined as mere academic excellence, you find kids hating school and anything or anyone associated with it.  Call it luck, fate or what have you, but I guess in that department, I didn't fall short of the Asian stereotype.  My early years were filled with innocence which soon turned to frowning at my intellectual ability for it gained me more enemies and jealous friends than anything.  As a doe-eyed 10-year-old, I guess you start wondering what you did wrong in getting straight A’s in your exams that people invented rumours about you going to endless tuition classes and being forced to study every night.  I guess when I was 10, jealousy and envy were two words very foreign to my vocabulary.

Not anymore.

And I really don't mean it in a cut throat way but really, the whole point of the matter is, that I change.  We change.  Why? Because we LEARN. And hopefully, in hopes of being a better and stronger person. I guess after a turbulent yet in most parts, enjoyable ride, I changed and started EMBRACING what I now call my gift.  A gift of intellectual ability I felt I fell short of appreciating what I had to the fullest because I was too preoccupied by how others felt about it.  

I guess you could say that I learnt a lot about courage.  I learnt that courage didn't mean conforming to what the social mentality, in this case Asian, thought was right.  Courage was considering all aspects and discovering what you have within yourself and not being afraid of showing the world what God has given you; and if it was the norm in society, great! If it wasn't, still great!  Many a time, my high school friends have found me with my nose in my books assuming my life to revolve around exams.  But I guess I want to tell them my side of the story in spite of it being hard to believe: I've always enjoyed learning and I have always possessed an academic drive to excel derived from nowhere else but me.  Yes, I may have been swayed at several instances with the kiasu-ism of the crowd and my better judgement clouded by the fear of not living up to the expectations of people around me.  But that in itself, is courage.  Courage to realise the flaw in the system and in myself and learning to improve myself from there.  What mattered more than getting that '1st' position on my report card was what I gained from all of this at the end of the day.  

I learnt that everyone has different potential to achieve many things.  We are all different.  And having to ask all 800 high school students in my school to conform to a standard of 90-100% being A+ and that being the only definition of a 'pelajar cemerlang' is in my words, just poop.  What about that student who brings her guitar to school every week composing melodies with the potential to become a wonderful musician?  What about that bespectacled pupil who never stops sketching manga on the corners of all her notebooks - can she not be the next best comic book artist?  I know academics may have been my niche (and for that I am blessed and grateful) but it doesn't mean that all 800 students are academically-inclined.  I am glad that I have found what I love to do even if the world has an ironic take to my weird joy for studying (or learning, if you wish) but I just wish I could speak more for those peers whose voices cannot be heard.  The minority being the arts isn't a field I have any less love towards and I just wish less people were blind to its beauty.

At times, I have learnt to put my foot down and say "No, this is not what I stand for or who I am," yet humble myself at other times to listen to people's advice.  Because it shouldn’t matter what gold medal or position you ranked in class. I’ve grown to believe that what mattered was WHO YOU ARE as a person  and how much you used what you had to HELP others to achieve their greatest potential.  There are many thin lines drawn, some I am still in the process of deciphering, but which comes only from experience.  From life.  Nothing else.  I am learning and I am still changing. (Note the present tense)

You'd think that at the brink of 'adulthood' (it scares me but it's true), change would have worn down by now but it actually is the opposite. 2012 has been nothing but one change after another. College has brought me to cross paths with some brilliant minds and although I was initially apprehensive of how this would play out, I realised I like how things are and I wouldn't have it any other way.  It had a lot with me defining my principles and why I was actually doing what I was doing in college.  I feel much more confident now than I was before, that I am genuinely competing with no one else but myself.  It has been a humbling experience being a girl from Sabah to meet some pretty awesome city people who have achieved many things.  It has taught me to have a sincere respect for the talents of others without trying to compete with their standards but rather, stay true to my own.  Nonetheless, I guess you may find me pushing myself a lot, perhaps too hard sometimes (still working on that), I guess we are, after all, figuring ourselves out.  I have not mastered how to stop pushing myself overboard, but I am learning.

And as I embark on another swashbuckling adventure of daunting University Applications, I can never dare to say that I am prepared.  Because life has a way of catching you off-guard at the most unsuspecting times.

“Courage is to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart”

And this is as much heart as I can put into the story of who I am.  It is nowhere near the entirety of it nor is it an accurate account.  But it is MY account.  It is a piece of me I would like to share.  Take it or leave it.