wow. i mean, imagine my propensity to kill with my words and long, impossible sentences.

now, imagine my silence.

it is when:
1) your bosses stare daggers at you for leaving, even after you told them it has little to do with the management and purely out of personal interest and selfishness (yes, always make them feel that it’s not their fault)

2) your colleagues look at you with suspicion, even after you told them how sad you feel and how guilty you are for chasing after your dreams and getting sundays off.

it’s just not cool when you are subjected to public humiliation when all you want to do is to fulfil my childhood desire and be someone you have always hoped to become.

i call it quits with you and you and you, all of you…

in my heart for now.
until end feb comes along and i
take flight.

so here i am, reporter going on entertainment writer in 8DAYS.
huge-ass thing to be happening for an adult; a change of job. but then again, it is such things that make you an adult methink. changes and upheavals, and dealing with people, bosses, colleagues. those are things that make you different.

i guess i can safely say i have crossed into adulthood. with some tears and a napkin in hand, i bid thee adieu, adolescent years and innocence. we share meet again when i am 82 years old and in need of my grandchild to get me a glass of water and my comforting 8DAYS magazine.

it has been a good 4 years, standing in front of sometimes-boisterous, sometimes-dead silent, sometimes-skeptical groups of some uninspired, supportive or plain arrogant undergraduates. i have been a fool more than once before them, but hey, there were times i shone like a star (though most of the time, i was so amazingly ridiculous i shine glaringly).

but today, well, it was neither. it was a little ludicrous, though not entirely the case. neither was it so superb that i end the presentation with rousing standing ovation. it was just pure funny. i was flirting with my professor and a US-exchange student in class (let me explain we were doing a presentation on flirting), doing stupid skits with my good friends, serene and lola; and hey, very much lacking in the content compared to the group before us.

but it was really fun. i think the three of us had a ball of a time; and when we got off the stage, after being shuffled off for lack of time by our prof, it dawned on us that that as insignificant as it felt when we were up there, it was the very last of our days as university students presenting to fellow trudgers in life.

it was then that i realized i would miss speaking to these people – friends who aren’t appraising you for performance bonus, people who know that when we didn’t prepare as much as we wanted, it was because we were so caught up in other important scholarly affairs; and these are people who wouldn’t eye you suspiciously for fear of competition.

last presentation of my student days in ntu, but boy, there are many lasts in this itself.

One of my favouritest images

Nellisssss

retro effects, or most effects in fact, work better when there is the colour blue – doesn’t exactly work for all.

photoshop’s the next best thing to God, family, J, Europe grad trip, friends and taking an afternoon nap.

awww… sho shweeeet.

*relish in the moment*

thanks, but no thanks, was my merciful and resilient answer, however.

i mean, i’m going to spend the rest of my life with this guy (okay, totally prophesizing here), i need some form of dignity to be able to survive the next 50 years living on his money, right? or, well, i could start now… but i’ll never live to tell my daughters (i am declaring here) that mommy paid for her grad trip in full on her own. or for the record, all the rest of the trips she has ever been on in her entire 4 years of university life.

though i am not very sure whether this really is a dignity issue; because hey, i don’t exactly have a reputation for that. perhaps it is my belief and conviction that i can survive this. and when i do, nothing might seem all that difficult;  trust my tummy and cravings, saving money sucks much.

it could also be the fact that he isn’t earning that much himself. yes, he’s going to be a multi-millionaire next time, but he isn’t, for now. he needs the moolah to indulge in his irrational purchases like those hamilton watches, red army watches and occasionally, a tag heuer. okay, i exaggerate, but i have a feeling he needs to start saving up earlier because this could be his weakest link in the future.

i am writing this down because i think it is such a sweet gesture. but out of sheer pride, i might not be able to enjoy the glorious feeling of going on free dates. free dates. i guess well, my independent streak, which i possessed in full before i got attached, should not continue to hover around the fail range.

自己的grad trip, 自己出。

756 words, to be exact. okay, yes, that is still 8,244 words away from first draft completion.

but it’s better than nothing, you judgemental people.

such a cold truth that i had to force myself to admit. and the epiphany actually descended when an unknowing teenage girl bumped into me (real hard) on the peak-hour train. knowing me, well, i could have done lots of things to her:

1. murdered her with my deadly glare and ended our encounter with my legendary rolling pupils.
2. exclaimed out loud how insolent young people are these days (who’s your momma, you immature eggs)
3.  shook my head dejectedly as though she had committed a heinous crime against her mother (who’s your momma, you imps)
4. bump into her (back at ya) real hard and pretend it was an accident.

but no, i did none of that – which was weird because i always had #1 ready. instead, before i could respond, she immediately spurned round and apologized with such sincerity, all i could muster up was a weak smile to hide my shame. i actually felt shame-faced… NOBODY COULD MAKE ME FEEL THAT WAY ABOUT MYSELF, much less a stranger who bumped into me real hard. i could have done so many things to validate myself, but no, i felt ashamed.

after i got off the train, i was a few steps behind her and because it was rush hour, i swear i could have walked all over her when she paused in her tracks in front of a busker. she took out her wallet and scooped out some coins for the blind busker before walking away. when i parted ways with her, all i could think about myself is how bitter and cynical i have grown over the years.

truth be told, she was me, when i was her age. i took (useless) flyers from those distributors and thanked them; i would give all (yes, all) my coins to any buskers i see on the streets; i would buy tissue packs from the disabled uncles and aunties; i would smile at strangers when they looked unhappy and unkind; i would care enough for people when they bump into me to apologize first.

i was uncynical… and happy.

that girl probably does not know how she made me feel about my life – but she’s probably an angel in disguise. an angel God sent to show me how jaded i have become about things around me. and i guess, to remind me how happy i was when i was younger.

well, i guess it is not too late to undo the ill effects of cynicism; though, trust me, cynicism courses through the blood and to remove it means to have a dialysis of sorts. it will hurt and it will be inconvenient. but i’m telling you, i’m going to try. i am to try to see life in a new light and actually believe in man again – to trust that they don’t mean harm when they do the things they do, to trust that they are not out to cheat me and well, to trust that i can love them like how God loves them.

and if i don’t “uncynicize” after this, i am sure God will send a few more along the way to bump into me.

and i hope i will be aware enough to remember what this bump means.