Home?

I sit in this chair, this simple, humble office chair. It is a nice dark navy blue, comfortable to sit in, supporting me as I type this post.

The florescent tubes in the ceiling light above me lights up my keyboard, lights up my handphone lying next to my computer, lights up everything around me.

A cool breeze blows past, artificial of course, from the fan plugged in across my room.

I'm at home. I should feel all warm and cosy. I should feel loved. I should feel like I belong here.

But I don't. I've never felt more like an outcast, a being that doesn't belong to this small universe.

Nothing, and no one, holds me up when I fall into the inky blackness, a freezing blizzard, a flurry of snow blowing through my heart and my mind. I now know that that is my sanctuary.

It is where I belong. I'm in a physical home, but not at peace with myself. Now? All I can say is that I want to be alone. Just me, myself and I.

Does anyone really care? Or is it a farce, a lip-service of "Oh, are you feeling alright? Do you want to talk about it?"

I don't know. All I know is that as the tears fall, nothing stems the flow. No one is there to brush away the tears from my face, to be there when I need them, to hold me close and show me that they care.

How frustrating. When you care about the people around you so much that it hurts just to think about what you have said and done for them. What's more frustrating, you ask? Simple. When everything you say or do is misconstrued, twisted and turned, misread and misquoted.

When all you do is taken for wrong.

Go ahead, tell me that you understand my intentions are good.

I understand that you understand that. After all, you should. But riddle me this. Why then, do you give me so much flak? Why am I lambasted, blamed for things that don't turn out the way they are supposed to in that category of thinking we call imagination?

What. You think that I don't want everything to turn out well? You think that I want to enjoy the sufferings of others?

Contrary, my dear sir. I hurt, hurt so deeply that my heart is torn into two. It leads me to cry, but only when you can't see me do so simply because I don't want you to see my pain. No point having anyone worry about me.

I know you have enough to worry about. You don't know how hard I try so that I don't let you down.

Expectations are goals others set for you. While that is a good thing in my opinion, it becomes so difficult to cope with when you know that all hopes are placed on you just because you are better than the ones around you. I don't want to seem arrogant, but it's because of this that I feel so weak and vulnerable inside.

I need someone to hold me close and tell me, that when I fail, it's OK. I don't need a lecture about how I need to manage my affairs better, how I need to study harder, how I need to strive to be the person you want me, and I want myself, to become.

It is cruel. Cruel indeed. A sharp stab into any enthusiasm I feel about achieving greater things when things I achieve is met with nonchalance. Even worse, when they are met with disapproval about how I could have done better.

I am doing so, so much. Maybe you don't understand the methods I undertake. That's not your fault.

You say I don't do anything to help out. You sure about that? Then explain the painstaking work I have done in order to achieve good grades, accolades and awards in school. You think I did that only for myself?

I did that, so you will have less to worry about. I did that, so that I have a shot at getting where I need and want to go at little burden to you. I did that, to help out in a way that I know I can.

You're frustrated, I get that. So many things to worry about. I just want to lighten your load in a way I know how. You don't see it.

And when I try to explain it to you? You shoot me down. Why do you think I don't want to talk about anything regarding myself nowadays? There's seriously no point. Ask yourself if you have ever listened to me speak without a judgement pre-formed in your mind.

I'm 17, going on 18. 18 is the age which people associate independence. But I am very much your son, your child. It hurts, every single time I try to talk to you and all I hear is you telling me that whatever I said was phrased badly and hurt others.

I've grown disillusioned with talking in this household. All my life, I have been treated as the shy kid, the middle child, the one that does little or no talking. Now that I try to? A clean head shot to my attempt. I was never this cynical, at least I think so. But because of this, I've gone past the stage of caring if what I say hides cynicisms.

I very much still want to love you.

But if you just keep doing what you do, I'm sorry. I cannot find a way for me to love you anymore. It pains me just to say this.

I DON'T WANT NOT TO LOVE YOU. DON'T YOU GET IT?

You're leaving me with little choice though.

P.S. If anyone this blog post refers to reads this post, there are two things I want you to know:

1. This explains my grumpy, angst mood sometimes.

2. If it offends you, tell me and I'll take it down.

Failure of resolve

I realised that I have missed out on so many things this holidays.

I realised that I have not done so many things I resolved to do this holidays.

I realised that I have not done anything concrete this holidays.

What a failure.

"You were never a has-been. You're a never-was!"

Will I look back on my life and think that?

Maybe.

I feel an urge to rant about how screwed a lot of things are in this world.

But I shan't.

I will keep this to myself. For now.

This post shall be split up into a few multiple posts. I can't seem to find a link between them, so disjointed segments galore, but I honestly feel that they're all of enough importance to be blogged about today. I feel like I'm in some kind of contemplative mood. Then again, according to a person commenting on my tagboard, I'm always contemplative/emo.

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Been (almost!) a week at the Institute of Medical Biology, attached to the Dr. Mike Jone's lab (i.e. the Vertebrate Signaling Lab) and working with an awesome professor, Dr. Tom Keeble!

It's been great fun! The casting of gels, running them, creating maxi and mini solutions of DNA and RNA mixes, harvesting eggs from female frogs, fertilising them with a piece of the frog testes (awww poor male frogs, they are killed for those testes ><>

Well, part and parcel of a researcher's life I guess?

Most of the people I know are attached to some organisation or another, gaining insights into the day in the life of people of varying professions. Awesomeness :)

Fun and all it may be, I must say that I'm quite tired. Tired physically, definitely. Mentally, not yet so. How does one sustain the energy and drive to do the same thing over and over and over again for years? Like Dr. Keeble, two years on the Xenopus Laevis. Two long years identifying genes of interest.

Meh, it might be too early for me to come to any conclusions, but I think, in complete honesty, that research as a profession doesn't appeal to me anymore. It used to, but now, no. I don't think I'll be able to find the passion and drive for one project that spans years on end. I don't think that I will be content doing the same thing over and over again. I don' think that I'll be able to cope with the frustrations of not getting results. I can't cope with that failure, seriously no.

It'll be fun, for the next few weeks. But if you ask me to do this for the rest of my life? :(

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Registered for SATs yesterday, will take it on the 23rd of January 2010 at ACJC (3 days before my birthday :D at least its not after ><).

Life's seems so long, but the end of it will quickly come crashing down around you, with you thinking, "Hmmm, what have I done in my life?"

Sadly, if you don't plan for anything in your life, the answer to that would be quite simply, "Well, I have an impression, but I'm not quite sure."

This is just part of my planning for the rest of my life. I've done much of this kind of thing this year, doing things because I have to in order to do things I want to in the future. It's like "I want good grades, so I have to work hard", this kind of thing. I'm not sure though, if my plans will ever come to fruition.

Will they come to pass? Should I even plan?

Only time can and will tell.

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(Somewhat related to the first part of this segmented blog post, but let's see how it goes.)

Working at IMB is kind of hectic when things get going but slack time in IMB is well, slack. I get to use the Internet for pretty much anything, except for games, Facebook and porn (first two things missing is an unfortunate situation, third one I definitely can live without).

And in this time, when I'm surrounded by people around me that I don't really know, and thus don't really talk to, I find myself yearning for the company of my friends, friends being the people I really know well and being the people who know me well. I stare at my list of contacts on Adium. I see close to a hundred people being online at any one point of time. I have perhaps a couple of hundred people on Adium.

How many do I talk to on a regular basis? I counted: 6-8, depending on how many of those are online.

Sad? Maybe. Required? Yes. I can't keep up relationships with too many people. I'll just die mentally from exhaustion. All I can achieve and maintain are relationships with a few individuals. And of course, closer relationships with only a few of those few. If I don't talk to you much, you're just not one of the few.

Don't worry (I'm definitely thinking too highly of myself here, thinking that anyone worries at all about me not being close to them). In the phrasing of the already clichéd breakup line, "It's not you, it's me".

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Am I nice? I don't really know if I am.

I mean, I've been told by some that I am this completely awesome, nice guy. Then again, others would agree to disagree, telling me that I'm a complete ass.

Am I too nice to some? Am I too "not nice" to others? (I saw a group of FB that day, titled: "Being too nice is flirting" What utter bull is this?)

Well, yeah? Definitely.

There's no person in this world that can treat everyone around him equally. There will be bias. I know that there are some people who's character and personality I just can't get along with. I won't try to, 'cos there is no way I can achieve success in this area. I would appear to be an ass to them, as they do to me.

Then there are others that I just feel compelled to be a good friend too. No reason for it, I'm just "nicer" to these people. These are the people I can get along with, to work with well. I don't need to try to do so, it just works. I'm nice to these people, they're nice back. "Nice" is subjective. I rest my case.

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I'm confused.

Confused by what you tell me.

Will you make it clear some day? Maybe you already have, I just didn't get the memo.

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'Cos the winners need someone to clap for them.

I'm that someone. I'm surrounded by winners. All I can do is applaud them and their successes because I have none of my own in comparison to them.

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I'm looking forward to the start of next year :)

It's going to be hectic, with lots of work to do and lots of work to catch up on. I'm lagging behind on so much. And with H3s coming into the picture, and my resolve to join another 2 CCAs, and my resolve to contribute more to society, it's gonna be one hell of a year! Oh yes, don't forget responsibilities that I already have.

And somehow, I'm looking forward to it. I'm looking forward to work, work and more work, something I would never have said in my previous years.

I've definitely changed.

Bleh, don't really like this change but well, I don't really hate it too. A love-hate relationship with who I've become, really.

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Done. That's all the disjointedness I have for tonight. Some parts though, need refining and elaboration and I think I might just do that in future posts.

We'll see how things go. Good night to the world, I have a long day ahead of my tomorrow :)

Feeling sick. Slept from 2.30pm all the way to 6pm today. And I still feel like sleeping.

Add that to some injury I think I picked up from golf today.

How much worse can my day get?

Not much I think...

If by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!